Black Tattoo
by Kittenshift17
Summary: *COLLECTION* Some of my older Dramione one-shot. Within you will find some Vampire!Draco, lots of Smut! Some Dark!Draco, some Possessive!Draco, a good deal of Fluffy one-shots.
1. Agony

**Summary:** "Nice of you to visit right around breakfast time" he murmured to her very softly, and Hermione felt goosepimples prickle across her skin at his sinister tone and at the fact that his voice this time had come from somewhere much closer to her in the dark Hermione squinted, trying to see through the stifling blackness, and simply couldn't. AditiDraco95's Vampire Challenge.

 **Agony**

 _By Kittenshift17_

* * *

Hermione Granger scowled at the darkened skyline as thunder boomed from the rain-heavy storm clouds that hung low, threatening to crack open and drench her before she could reach her destination. She hurried her steps a little, her nervousness and hesitation making her sluggish, in spite of the downpour that looked ready to claim her. The wind had begun to pick up, and the air had chilled considerably, making Hermione wonder if they might get sleet rather than rain.

Though it was hard to tell with the clouds hanging so low and covering the sun so effectively, it was almost dusk, and Hermione knew her intended host for the evening would no doubt just be waking for the day. After all, no self-respecting vampire was awake during daylight hours where they might risk a stray ray of sunshine scorching their skin, and her host was no exception. Hermione was dreading her impending visit with the only vampire in existence she could even consider approaching, and it was times like this when her position as a liaison between the Wizarding world and the wider community of Magical Beings from different races was one that Hermione regretted. If she'd become an Auror like Harry and Ron, she wouldn't be coming to call on a vampire in the late afternoon, and she most certainly wouldn't be risking her life by presuming to simply drop in on him.

She still found it hard to believe that he'd become a vampire, and Hermione was sure that were the choice ever to be put in her hands as to whether she wanted to die or to live on for the rest of eternity, never aging but subsisting on the blood of the living to survive, she would choose to go quietly into her grave and take an eternal slumber. Immortality wasn't for her.

As the skies above cracked open with a terrifying boom and a flash of blinding lightning, Hermione shrieked, jolted from her thoughts and spurred into fleeing towards the tower in the distance where she could see a door that would get her safely out of this torrential downpour. Her feet slipped and skidded in the immediate mud caused by the heavy rain, and she collided with the door with a thud that was lost amid the sound of the rain when she lost her balance and almost bit it in the muddy quagmire that had sprung up with the deluge.

Without bothering to knock, Hermione turned to handle of the rickety looking wooden door and let herself into the looming tower that she'd been warned away from thanks to several signs posted along the lonely stretch of forest paths that had led her deep into the forest, where she discovered the current home of the vampire shed come to call upon.

"My, but your manners haven't improved at all" a disembodied voice spoke in the darkness of the still room, making Hermione jump. She was surprised by how much the stone walls muffled the sound of the storm outside, and by the flicker of fear that squeezed her heart painfully inside her chest as she pulled out her wand, meaning to light to tip to better see in the pitch blackness of the tower.

"My manners are just fine, I knocked by colliding with the door." Hermione retorted, squinting as she searched for the owner of the voice. It made her nervous to be alone in the dark with a vampire. Especially the one she'd come to see.

"I do hope you don't mean to light that thing" he murmured to her, sounding utterly pleasant and yet strangely as though lighting her wand would result in her untimely death. Hermione marvelled at the idea that he could sound so capricious with one little non-threatening sentence.

"I can't see a thing" Hermione argued, "And I don't trust you in the dark."

"You don't trust me in the light either" he replied, sounding amused now "Why are you here?"

"I don't know if you know, but I work at the Ministry now…. In the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures." Hermione said, her nervousness growing by the second. She could practically feel him slinking forward in the utter darkness, stalking closer with the intention of unsettling and otherwise upsetting her. After all, it had always been his nature and his re-birth as a vampire had only amplified those traits within him.

"And so you've come all by yourself to call on little old me?" He sounded positively delighted by the news, and as though he expected she was there to reprimand him for something he'd done.

"Yes. The Ministry wants to instigate a program to help you and other Vampires get the blood you need to survive without having you preying on unsuspecting muggles" Hermione explained "And since you're the only person I know who's actually affected by Vampirism, I thought I'd stop by to find out if you could be swayed to the idea and if you had any pull with any other vampires you might know in order to begin to get this program underway."

"Nice of you to do so right around breakfast time" he murmured to her very softly, and Hermione felt goosepimples prickle across her skin at the sinister tone in his voice and at the fact that his voice this time had come from somewhere much closer to her in the dark Hermione squinted, trying to see through the stifling blackness, and simply couldn't. She even lifted her hand in front of her own face and waved it, but could make out even a silhouette of it in the dark.

"Are you threatening me, Malfoy?" Hermione demanded of her host, not at all liking the way he'd sounded almost hungry as he mentioned breakfast. She hadn't stopped to consider the prospect that it might be a bad idea to call on a vampire at the beginning of his day when he was most likely to be at his hungriest.

"Well, Granger, you did come wandering into my territory unannounced, ignoring all the warning signs to keep you away. And you've no idea how utterly delectable you smell with all that fresh human blood gushing through your veins after I've spent so much of my time choking down animal blood and that stuff in the bags that's never the right temperature." He pointed out.

Hermione quickly withdrew the bag of blood she'd tucked into the waistband of her slacks and worn against her skin to make it close to the right temperature, holding it out in the dark in the hopes that while she couldn't see a thing, he might be able to and so would know she was offering it to him.

"I should've known you'd come prepared" Hermione heard him mutter before she felt the blood bag be tugged out of her hand. If she listened hard, she could hear the gulping sound and slurping sound of him consuming his meal.

"Are you going to help me oragnize this program, or am I just wasting my time?" Hermione asked, feeling uncomfortable to know that the boy she'd once sat across from in class was gulping down blood.

"What's in it for me?" he asked her, his voice having turned husky and deep as though his throat had been parched and was no longer. She shuddered at the sound, cursing the fact that in spite of the Revulsion Draught she'd drunk before coming to see him, the enthrallment of the vampire called to her. She knew that with a few simple words he could easily seduce her into being his willing victim if he chose, and the potion didn't seem to be doing as much as she'd hoped to stave off that unfortunate vampire trait.

Hermione understood that it was a gift from whatever dark being had created their curse to allow Vampire to get their daily blood without needing to hunt down and mentally scar their victims. It was used instead to seduce the victim into willing offering the vampire blood, sex and just about anything else the undead might want and it was one of the reasons vampires were shunned. They had a dark reputation, and more often than not, and even darker nature.

"What's in it for you, and the rest of your kind, would be that rather than needing to attack people just to eat, you'd simply be able to show up at a Ministry run Blood bank, where you would be able to easily access blood. You wouldn't have to hunt down some poor animal and drink from it. You wouldn't need to go out and enthrall victims into giving you whatever you want, and the Ministry wouldn't have to keep dealing with modifying the memories of these victims when the enthrallment wears off, or cleaning up the mess if one of you takes it too far and drains you victim completely. The Minster has had enough of hunting all of you down, unsuccessfully most of the time, when it goes too far and people get killed."

"You really need to stop using the word victim if you want to get out of here in one piece Granger" Draco Malfoy warned her, and Hermione blinked in shock and fear when suddenly a pair of glowing red eyes appeared less than three feet in front of her, staring down at her hungrily. His eyes gave off enough light that she could dimly see the rest of his face, and Hermione did her best not to gasp in terror.

He'd always been rather good-looking, but now he was utterly mesmerizing, and Hermione found herself entirely unable to take her eyes off him. His hair was as pale at moonlight, just as it had always been, but now it hung into his eyes in such a way that she felt the urge to reach up and brush it back. His once grey eyes now glowed crimson in an unnerving way, and yet Hermione could find no revulsion within herself at the sight of them.

The recent consumption of blood had the veins around his eyes standing out in the most disturbing way, and they practically writhed as he stared down at her from so close, telling Hermione that if she didn't state her business and be on her way soon, she might very well be his next meal. And while his eyes were disturbing, they weren't nearly as unsettling as the pair of inch long fangs that protruded from his top jaw and down over his bottom lip to halfway down his chin. They looked lethally sharp, and Hermione didn't have to touch them to know they would be. Even simply holding his gaze, Hermione felt the enthrallment begin to work on her, making her want to move closer to him in the dark, rather than wanting to flee.

In fact it was so potent that she sort of wanted to reach up and touch those sharp fangs, or perhaps even to feel them sinking into the soft flesh of her neck.

"Stop it" Hermione hissed at him when she caught the slight smirk on his face as she swayed unsteadily on her feet, practically swooning like a fool all thanks to the effects of his enthrallment.

"Stop what Granger?" he asked her seriously, grinning now and showing off more of those bright white teeth.

"Stop trying to enthral me" Hermione commanded of him.

"I wouldn't dream of it" he informed her. "I prefer not to use it. I find it much more rewarding to have my victims come to me willing and of their own volition. So if you're feeling the need to have me bite you, it's all coming entirely from you. I'm not surprised, really. The way your heart is racing indicates your attraction to me, as does your scent."

"And now you're lying to me in an attempt to get inside my head." Hermione scowled, not liking his words a bit.

"I'm not lying Granger. I can smell that vile Revulsion Potion you've consumed, which, consequently hinders the effects of enthrallment. Even if I were inclined to use it on you, that potion would make it ineffective." Draco told her and Hermione stared at him uncomfortably. She wasn't sure she believed him, but he did look as though he was genuinely telling the truth. She'd heard that the Revulsion Draught had this effect.

"You're not enthralling me?" Hermione confirmed.

"No. You want me all on your own" he grinned wickedly and Hermione felt like swooning again. What was wrong with her? This was bloody Malfoy! She was married to Ron, for Merlin's sake, and Malfoy was a sodding Vampire! Why was she reacting to him like this?

"Are you going to answer my questions about the program, or are you just going to smirk at me?" Hermione demanded.

"I haven't decided yet. You look different" he pointed out conversationally and Hermione blinked at him again, noticing as she did that before her eyes his fangs slowly retracted until they were just wickedly sharp incisors inside his mouth and the veins around his eyes stopped standing out and writhing.

"Probably because I haven't seen you in more than five years and got married" Hermione replied "Do you know any other vampires, and would you be interested in the idea of working with the Ministry to meet your dietary requirements?"

Malfoy clucked his tongue at her.

"It really doesn't do to discuss such matter in my foyer, Granger" he told her, and Hermione almost jumped out of her skin when his cool hand wrapped around hers and gave it a gentle tug "We should continue this in my dining room. Not to mention you're soaked and must be cold. Come, there's a fire this way."

"You use fire? I thought being a vampire meant you didn't need to because you never got cold" Hermione replied too stunned by his polite demeanour to be overly concerned as he led her through the dark and up a winding set of steps into a room that did indeed have a fireplace.

"I don't" Malfoy shrugged "But my mother visits with me often, in spite of my condition, and so I keep it going for those times."

"I see" Hermione replied, walking over and standing by the fire when he released her hand, relieved by the fact that the crackling fire meant his glowing eyes were no longer the only light source. "And are you intending to answer my questions?"

"I know plenty of other Vampires" Malfoy replied evenly, going over and sitting down on the lounge in the room. There was a predatory grace about him that Hermione knew had not been there before he'd been bitten. "Are you going to tell me who it was that you married?"

"You already know the answer to that" Hermione replied just as evenly, choosing not to look at him as she said it.

She didn't want to think about the evening they'd spent together several months after the war. She didn't want to think about the way they met in a little pub on the outskirts of Bristol, completely by accident. She certainly didn't want to think about the way they sat together at the bar long into the night, discussing everything and nothing, both too afraid to suggest they move their companionship to a more private location.

And yet, unbidden, the memory came back to her as though it were yesterday and not more than five years ago. She could recall the way he'd looked so different from the arrogant boy she'd known at Hogwarts, and the way he come up to her and bought her a drink, accompanying it with an apology for all the times he'd been such a tosser to her. She could still remember the way she'd found him so easy to talk to when he wasn't being cruel or mocking her, and the way he'd held her attention well into the early hours of the morning with nothing more than simple conversation.

It had been a strange and rare experience for Hermione, to simply be able to sit and talk to someone for hours on end. It wasn't something she'd ever really experienced before. In the past, Hermione had found that it was usually Harry and Ron who did the majority of the talking, most often about Quidditch. She'd never really known the pleasure of being to sit and hold a conversation with someone without having to constantly pause and explain her meaning were she to use a high-level vocabulary word to express herself, and she'd not once had anyone with whom she'd been able to discuss the ways of the wizarding world and all it's intricacies without having them roll their eyes and tell her she was boring. Something Ron was still prone to doing on occasion when she tried to explain some fascinating creature she encountered in her research or her daily work.

Hermione turned away from Malfoy's stare as she tried very hard indeed not to think about the fact that she'd let the novelty of his company and a little too much whiskey go to her head, resulting in the pair of them retiring to a rented room above that little Bristol pub and engaging in an activity Hermione hadn't experienced in its full capacity before that night, that still turned her cheeks pink when she thought of it.

"Weasley then?" Malfoy asked her, either oblivious to the turn her thoughts had taken, or provoking her into reacting, as she'd once learned he was particularly gifted at.

"Ron and I have been married four years" Hermione replied "Do you think you'd be able to speak to these other vampires that you know and discuss with them the idea of negotiating an arrangement that would allow for the Ministry to provide blood to all of you without any more attacks happening on random bystanders and innocent victims?"

"Perhaps. Why did you marry him?" he replied, and Hermione shivered when she realised he'd moved up until he was standing behind her while she stared into the flames of the fire, trying very hard not to think about the night they'd spent together so long ago.

Try as she might, Hermione couldn't forget the intimate moments they'd shared, nor the sting of unhappiness and betrayal she'd felt when she woke one morning five months later in the apartment they'd shared to find him gone. She tried not to think too much about the fact that at first she'd been frantically concerned for his safety, and despairing when she'd learned that in the early hours of the morning he'd left the house only to be accosted by a Vampire while he strolled through the park. She tried not to think about the way he'd come to her several nights later, still new to his condition. The way he'd been unable to resist the pounding of her heart and the pulse of the blood in her veins.

Almost absently, Hermione reached up and brushed her fingers over the pair of identical bite-mark scars on her throat where he'd sunk those lethal fangs into her flesh and drank her blood until she'd been lightheaded and dizzy. Involuntarily, her tongue moistened her lips as she recalled the heady taste of Vampire blood on her tongue when he'd fed some of his blood back to her to keep her from dying. She closed her eyes against the tears that threatened as she recalled the way she'd woken alone in their bed the following morning with nothing but a short note from him telling her that he was sorry and that he no longer trusted himself to be around her and so would be leaving with the intention of learning to cope with his condition and would never return.

"I married him because we love each other" Hermione answered his question, attempting to shove the thoughts aside. "Do you have any questions about the program I'm trying to initiate, or are you going to continue to pry into my private life?"

"Just how does the Ministry intend to support the community of Vampires throughout all of Britain and provide us blood?" he asked her, his voice sounding cold now. Hermione wondered if it was because of her answer or because she'd snapped at him.

"Their intention is to collect the blood the same way the Hospitals do, and provide it to all of you at whatever temperature best suits you," Hermione explained.

"And how are they going to accomplish that?" Draco asked her "I hardly think the wizarding community had suddenly changed their minds about Vampires and decided to do anything that might in some way assist us."

"You underestimate my ability to change the minds of my colleagues and to persuade others to my way of thinking. In the years I've held my position I've had the Werewolf Registry overturned and a Legislature drawn up to ensure werewolves have the same legal rights as wizards regarding employment, ensuring that they can't be fired for their condition. I've also instigated Ministry provided distribution of the Wolfsbane potion freely to any who suffer the curse and wish to take the medication, in spite of all the prejudice against werewolves and the complaints of the man who invented Wolfsbane potion, who was rather vocal about the idea of his invention being given away for free when he preferred to profit from the suffering of those affected who could actually afford the disgustingly priced recipe and ingredients." Hermione informed him calmly. She was proud of her achievements and she wasn't afraid to boast about the when it felt necessary.

"You had him thrown in Azkaban for a month for discriminating against Werewolves" Draco murmured, and Hermione felt her heart begin to pound when she realised he was standing right behind her, close enough that if he had any body heat to give off, she'd been able to feel it against her back.

"He deserved it" Hermione replied, her lips twitching at the proud and approving tone in his voice "I've also managed to convince the Ministry to initiate a program that calls for all Ministry employees to donate a pint of blood every month, and those who are willing are able to donate as often as they like. The Blood Replenishment potion results in us being able to give blood every day if we choose to without any ill-effects."

"No ill-effects that you might notice" he murmured "But we'll notice. That stuff makes the blood thicker, but less nutritious, meaning we require more of it."

"I've also instigated a blood drive that's open to muggles, who are always more than willing to donate blood believing it goes to a good cause by helping other muggles who get injured or sick."

"You're tricking them into believing their helping others when really you're just stealing their blood to feed vampires?" Malfoy asked, chuckling mildly now.

"They are helping others. They're helping vampires. And the more they donate, the less likely they are to be attacked in the park late at night and fed on." Hermione argued, feeling a swell of annoyance at the implication that she was simply stealing it for no purpose "Vampires are people too, and just because you all need to drink it rather than to have it racing around in your veins, doesn't mean their donation is any less valuable. You need blood to live, just the same way sick people do."

Draco didn't say anything to that, and Hermione bit her lip, knowing she'd probably given away her secret.

"Why are you instigating this idea Hermione?" he asked her very softly, and Hermione bit her lip on a whimper to hear her first name coming out of his mouth once more.

"You know why" Hermione whispered, refusing to look at him. Refusing to give him the satisfaction of knowing that in spite of his condition, and in spite of her marriage to Ron, there was rarely a day that went by when she didn't think of him and wonder how he was coping with his condition. She'd tried writing to him in the aftermath of his affliction, but he'd never responded to her and when she'd tried looking for him, she'd had not even a lick of luck at locating him. It was a miracle she'd tracked him down today at all.

"Most vampires are going to jump at this chance" he whispered to her in return, and Hermione held her breath when she felt the lightest brush of his fingers against her hip through her damp clothing. "But it's not going to solve the problem completely. Some of the deaths are accidents, but there are some vampires who prefer to drink their victims dry. They say the blood tastes sweeter as their victim dies."

"But if we instigate it, you'll get your blood that way from now on?" Hermione asked him, her whole body quivering at the feel of his touch against her after so long apart.

"Drinking it from a bag isn't the same as nuzzling into someone's soft neck" he murmured, and Hermione felt her head tilt to one side, exposing her neck to him, knowing his face hovered over her right shoulder.

"You really shouldn't do that Hermione" Draco murmured to her huskily, and Hermione felt desire curl through her. She hated herself for the fact that in spite of her happy marriage to Ron, she wanted to feel his lips against her throat. "I have far better control than I used to, but I'm not a saint and you're difficult to resist because I already know how your blood tastes of the sunshine I'm no longer allowed to feel."

Hermione knew she shouldn't be doing it. She knew it was utter insanity to offer her throat to a vampire and silently invite him to drink from her. She knew she ought not to be there at all, knowing very well that she was still in love with him just the way she'd been the day he left.

"Do you think you'd be able to convince any of the vampires you know to get their blood via the program from now on?" she asked instead, her head still tilted to the side, tempting him and testing his strength of will.

"Probably. You instigated this program because of me, didn't you?" he asked her, and Hermione trembled when she felt his fingers brush against the side of her throat, brushing her hair aside and giving him unhindered access to her.

"Of course I did" Hermione whispered. "This doesn't change who you are. It just means you have to get your sustenance a little differently to the way I do."

Hermione heard the breath he didn't need to take, catch in his throat as her words.

"How can you say that after what I did to you?" he asked her quietly, sounding tortured by her words. Hermione knew that he believed he'd attacked her and hurt her and scared her when he'd come to her that night so long ago and drank so much of her blood that he'd almost killed her. She'd known all along that it was the reason he'd fled from her and refused to reply to her letters. That he blamed himself and hated himself for what he had done to her.

"I never had a problem with what you did to me Draco. It never mattered to me that you'd become a vampire. I never blamed you for what you did, and as you can see, I'd let you do it again in a heartbeat. I was in love with you. I would've been happy to stay with you and help you learn how to deal with you condition. It was you who pushed me away, and you who ran away from me because you were afraid of what you'd become." Hermione informed him, the words spilling out of her mouth that she'd spent five years imagining saying to him.

She'd felt many things about his decision to leave her because of his condition over the years. Rage. Despair. Determination. Defeat. Depression. Acceptance. Understanding. But in all that time, she'd been left with a gnawing urge inside herself to find some way to help him. To find a way to have the wizarding world view vampires not as monsters of the night, but as human beings who simply had different dietary needs, didn't like going out during the day and were a little more persuasive than others. She'd felt a yearning to make the world see Draco the way she still saw him, in spite of his condition.

"If you believe that, why did you marry Weasley?" Draco asked her, his hand curling around her hip and slowly pulling her back against his chest, his other hand trailing lightly over the spot where her pulse fluttered beneath her skin inside her neck.

"Because I knew that no matter what I said or did, or how I tried to change your mind, you were never going to forgive yourself for what you'd done to me, and never going to fully come to terms with your condition. I knew that in spite of the fact that you're now going to live forever, you'll never love me the same way as you once did, and that nothing I could say or do would convince you that what you are doesn't matter to me. I knew that you didn't want to be with me anymore. That much was clear when you refused to respond to my letters and evaded me when I tried to find you." Hermione replied, her heart racing now as his arm slipped around her waist and she felt him lower his lips to brush feather light kisses over her throat as though he simply couldn't help himself.

She shivered when she felt his fangs scrape very lightly against her, not hard enough to break the skin or leave any marks, just hard enough the leave Hermione with a quivering desire to feel them sink into her flesh once more.

"You really shouldn't have come, Hermione" he murmured to her. His voice was low and husky, and Hermione could hear the pain in his voice. She wondered if it was pain caused by his attempts to resist tasting her blood, or if the pain stemmed, as hers did, from a broken heart.

She might not be willing to admit it to anyone but herself, but for all that she loved Ron and was happy with him. A part of her would always love Draco. A portion of her heart would always belong to him, and no matter the time or the distance they might put between themselves, Hermione knew that if she lived to be a hundred, she'd still love him. It truly didn't matter to her that he was a vampire.

Hermione wondered about his feelings now, and whether or not he might still love her as he once had done or if he simply felt nothing but an insatiable thirst for blood. She wondered as he scraped his fangs against her skin a second time, if the pain she'd heard in his voice stemmed not from the restraint it took to keep from biting her, but from his own broken heart. Did seeing her make him long for the life they'd been planning together? Did he ever wonder how things might've turned out if he hadn't been bitten? If he hadn't fled from her in a vain attempt to keep from hurting her, which only resulted in hurting her far more than he ever could have had he stayed with her.

"I wanted to come" Hermione whispered in response, aware that she sounded breathless at the feel of his body pressed against her back, at the feel of his strong arms wrapped around her once more.

"You're not making this easy" he informed her, his lips still pressing kisses to her skin that made her want to give him anything he wanted.

"You don't have to restrain yourself Draco" Hermione whispered to him, feeling a longing deep in her heart to feel him bite her again. "I don't mind. Bite me if you want to."

"Hermione!" he groaned, sounding as though he truly was in agony now.

Hermione held her breath when she felt his fangs lengthen even further, scraping against her skin now in such a way that she imagined she would have faint raised red welts where he dragged them. She could sense how much the urge to sink those dual points into her flesh tormented him; how much he longed to nuzzle into her and bury them in her veins, drinking until that burning dryness in his throat went away.

"Do it" Hermione urged him, overcome by how much she wanted him to. He hesitated, and Hermione felt a desperate yearning seize her when he slowly loosened his hold as though he meant to pull away from her. "Please Draco?"

His answering groan to her pleading request was muffled by her gasp of pain and then her whimper of pleasure as he nuzzled his face back into her neck, fitting his fangs directly over the pair of scars from the time he'd bitten her more than five years ago. The sting at the feel of his fangs breaking through her skin and tapping into her carotid artery only lasted a moment of two, and felt more like being given a needle than anything else.

Just as quickly as the pain came, it dispersed again, his fangs withdrawing and shrinking down to a normal size as he fitted his warm lips against the puncture wounds. The pleasure came with the first draw of her blood from her body and into his. It was all encompassing, and Hermione drifted in a sea of bliss, surrendering her weight to the feel of his strong arms holding her close once again, just the way he'd once done every night.

Hermione lost all track of time and her surroundings at the feel of Draco drinking her blood again, and she felt weak as she feebly pushed against something that brushed against her mouth insistently. Her eyelids felt heavy, and she couldn't stand on her own.

"You need to drink, love" his soft husky voice murmured, his lips tickling the shell of her ear as he spoke to her. Vaguely, Hermoine was aware that he'd probably taken too much and so needed to feed her some of his own blood so that she would survive. She tried not to think about it as she did what she was told, opening her mouth and letting him hold his bleeding wrist against her lips, slowly gulping down the heady fluid.

His blood revitalised her much quicker than it had the first time he'd bitten her, and Hermione found herself wondering if that was because he'd taken less from her, or because her body was more accustomed to the way Vampire blood wreaked havoc with her system, repairing any damage and giving her more energy than she knew what to do with. When she could stand on her own without his assistance, Hermione pulled his wrist away from herself, watching the way the pair of puncture wounds sealed themselves before her eyes, leaving nothing but a faint pink smear of blood on the inside of his wrist.

"You shouldn't have let me do that" he whispered, his body still pressed up against hers.

"Why not?" Hermione asked him.

"Because the more frequently we drink from any one person, the more we begin to exclusively crave only their blood. It's the reason so many are turned in the first place. And your blood in particular is impossibly sweet. I shouldn't have fed from you again." He explained, and Hermione noticed that he seemed to have inclination to let go of her and move away.

"You've not really answered me about the program" Hermione reminded him, knowing that she needed to be on her way, else she might do something else foolish like kissing him when she had a husband at home who was not the man currently holding her so possessively.

"I'll speak to my contacts" he replied "Most will be intrigued by the idea. Some will be relieved, but you should warn the Ministry that while the majority will probably be grateful for this idea, there will still be a few covens who will prefer to do things the old fashioned way."

"I'll make sure they're aware." Hermione whispered, reluctantly stepping out of his embrace in spite of the way his arms tightened momentarily around her as though he meant to protest her desertion. "I should go."

He nodded and Hermione noticed the way he looked away from her, but not before she saw regret flashing on his face and in his eyes.

"I'll write to you when everything with the program is more concrete and ready to go" Hermione said formally, unable to keep from moving her hand up to brush her fingers over the pair of tiny wounds on her throat.

Draco didn't say anything to her, and so Hermione made her way for the door, lighting her wand to see as she began to descend the stairs.

"Hermione?" she heard Draco ask just as she reached the first floor and made for the door.

She turned back to look at him. It was far more painful to leave him this way than she'd expected, and all over again, Hermione felt her heart fracture inside her chest to know that they could never be together. She raised her eyebrows at him, not trusting herself to speak without her voice cracking and without scolding him for the decision he had made so many years ago.

"Whatever happened to…?" he trailed off, his crimson eyes fixed on her face, his own expression tortured. Hermione knew what he was asking her about. The reason he'd left the house that night so long ago. He wanted to know what had become of the child she'd been carrying the night he'd become a vampire.

His child.

Hermione bit her lip in a moment of indecision, wondering what she should tell him. It had been a miracle that Ron had asked her to marry him even though he knew she was carrying Draco's child, and they had agreed to raise the child as theirs. Hermione wondered what she should tell him. Should she lie and tell him she'd lost the baby, protecting her daughter from the confusion and heartache of knowing that Ron wasn't actually her father, but that instead her father was Draco Malfoy, a vampire? Should she risk upsetting Ron were he to know that she'd seen Draco today and had allowed him to drink her blood again? Already the wound on her throat was fading and healing, turning back into a scar. She knew that if she wished it, Hermione could keep her meeting with Draco from her husband.

Or should she tell Draco the truth? That he was a father. That he had a daughter named Vera.

"She's almost five" Hermione whispered to him, watching the way his eyes lit up and the way his expression simultaneously fell.

"I have a daughter?" he breathed, suddenly across the room and in front of her, his hands circling her biceps gently as he peered down into her face.

"Her name is Vera" Hermione told him, nodding even as the tears filled her eyes. As a vampire, he was incapable of crying, but from his expression she knew that were he still able, he too would be unable to hold the tears back.

"Does she know about me?" he asked her, his voice thick with agony.

"No. She thinks Ron is her father." Hermione told him sadly "I wanted to tell you… but you never responded to my letters and I didn't want to drop that on you via a letter. I couldn't find you to tell you, either."

He stared at her with such sadness and regret in his gaze for such a long time, that Hermione was sure he'd gone into shock.

"I wish I'd never taken that walk" he whispered brokenly, staring into her eyes looking agonised and wracked with guilt. "I wish I'd stayed there in that bed with you, rather than panicking over the idea of you being pregnant. I wish I'd never become a vampire."

Hermione stepped into him, wrapping her arms around his narrow waist and burying her head against his hard chest, clutching at him as the sobs overtook her.


	2. Bloodied Dagger

**Summary:** Kissing Draco Malfoy feels strange and amazing at the same time. He's particularly good at it, just like everything else but I can't help feeling the thrill of doing something wrong. Because everything about this whole thing is wrong. It's bad enough that I let him fuck me the other night to keep him from carving his name into my skin, only to have him bloody well do it anyway.

* * *

 **Bloodied Dagger**

 _By Kittenshift17_

* * *

"Miss Granger, a moment please?" Professor McGonagall says, stopping me on my way to the feast "Mister Malfoy is Head Boy alongside you this year. I expect the two of you to make every effort to get along and will be severely disappointed if I learn that either one of you is not cooperative. Do you understand?"

Of all people why on earth would McGonagall pick Draco Malfoy to be head boy? The guy had been a Death Eater for crying out loud. Of course I still have my own bone to pick with him for what his aunt did to me while he sat there and did nothing, but that would have to come later. I refuse to throw a temper tantrum in front of the headmistress.

"I understand Professor. May I continue into the feast now?" I reply rigidly, holding my back stiff and straight, trying to keep my jaw from clenching furiously even as my body shakes with anger. Malfoy leans casually against the strong stone wall next to McGonagall, his signature smirk in place. His white blonde hair plastered back like always.

He's grown over the past few months. His chest filled out a little more, and he looks to be a little taller. He's dressed in muggle jeans, Armani by the looks of them; they had a stylish rip in the left knee. I wonder in passing why he hadn't dressed in the uniform slacks. He has his Slytherin knit jumper and tie on. And his Slytherin cloak hangs around his shoulders.

"Miss Granger, I want to know that you and Mr Malfoy are both going to be mature about this arrangement. You will be sharing the Heads dormitory and handling the responsibilities of the entire student body together and I expect you both to work together effectively. I have already had a little pep talk with Mister Malfoy, and he has agreed to try to put your past disputes behind him. Can you do the same?" McGonagall's voice is sharp and brisk, like always, but her eyes search mine sympathetically.

I can feel the scowl on my face as my hatred for Malfoy burns in my blood. Slowly I reach to hike up the left sleeve of my Gryffindoor jumper.

"I'm really not sure Professor" I say softly, my eyes fixed on Malfoy's face, "I just don't think a mere Mudblood like myself could even be in the presence of such pure-bloodedness." I thrust out my exposed left arm, where the word Mudblood is carved and permanently scarred. That bitch Bellatrix had enchanted her dagger to ensure that any wound caused by it would never be forgotten. Healers at St. Mungos' had tried everything they could to remove the raised red scar of her word. Nothing had worked.

Malfoy's pale skin pales even further as he stares at the word carved into my flesh and he flinches violently, his arrogant smirk disappearing.

"Miss Granger that is enough! If I ever hear you or any other student, colleague or random citizen use that word again I will curse them. Do you understand me?" McGonagall screeches at me, her horrified face staring at my arm just a little too long before contorting in rage. "The war is over Miss Granger. And we all know what you went through to ensure the freedom of us all. But I will not tolerate the biases of such nonsense in my school. Even from you. The arrogance of the purebloods is all but removed as so many of them have fallen into disgrace or died." McGonagall pauses in her tirade to take a deep calming breath. "Hermione, I need you to cooperate with Draco. Can you do that? Put the past behind you."

She searches my face, even though my eyes are still fixed on Malfoy. He has recovered from his shock at the grotesqueness of my arm, but he looks humbled, even sad as his eyes move to my face.

"Granger, I'm sorry for everything that I did and said and didn't do over our years here and during the war. I hope that someday you will forgive me, but I understand if you are unable to do that." Malfoy speaks softly and formally, and I can tell he means his apology.

But it's not enough.

I turn to McGonagall, she is still waiting for my response.

"Professor I will try to get along with him, although I'm disappointed and disturbed that you ever let him back inside this castle, let alone gave him a position of authority that he will no doubt abuse. I thought you had more sense." Rage saturates my tone as I say those words. McGonagall looks like I've just slapped her, and Malfoy raises his eyebrows at my defiance.

I turn towards him, my eyes narrowed in hatred and I let scorn leak into my vehemence.

"I wish Voldemort had murdered you and your whole family," I say softly, and watch the fear on his face at the name and at my anger "I will never forgive you for what happened Malfoy. Not when you just stood there and did nothing while that bitch carved me up."

I spin on my heels and hold my head high as I leave them both stunned in the hallway and make my way into the Great Hall for the feast.

The feast went well. The sorting hat sang about the gift of peace and promoted house unity and making new friendships with old rivals. I rolled my eyes at that, still seething at McGonagall for letting Malfoy back into the school. I even left my sleeves rolled up, letting anyone who wished to notice my hideous scar and remember the horror of the war.

The prefects led the first years off to their houses and I smiled feeling full and sleepy. Pleased to know that for tonight at least, the teachers would be patrolling the corridors. It was really a blessing; I'd always heard that the first night back was the worst. With students sneaking out, some to explore the castle, others trying to meet up with old friends. After the evening I'd had I really could not be bothered and truthfully, if they had made me I would have given a months detention to anyone out of bed.

In my Head Girl letter McGonagall had given direction of how to get to the Heads dormitory, although for me it was really unnecessary. The Marauders Map had shown me the way years ago, so I knew how to find the portrait of the Hogwarts founders on the sixth floor without reading the letter. Not to mention that harry had given the old map to me since I was coming back here and he wouldn't be able to use it for much of anything useful at home.

When I reached it the founders looked to be sleeping but old Gryffindor opened one eye and glanced at me when I cleared my throat.

"Ah wonderful, a brave Gryffindor as Head Girl. Splendid, splendid. I always feel the school is in the best hands when a Gryffindor is Head. But wait a second Young lass, I know of you. Didn't you used to spend time with our brave and heroic saviour, Harry Potter?" His voice was deep and warm as he began nudging the other occupants of the portrait until they are all staring at me.

"Yes sir, I'm Hermione Granger. Harry is one of my best friends." I say quietly, thinking of how lonely the feast felt without Harry and Ron. "I should have finished school last year, but with the war and the missions we all had to undertake, I missed it. I wanted to finish my education." I smile a little sadly at the occupants of the painting. Ravenclaw smiles at me.

"Very wise of you Lass, I always thought you should be in my house, such a clever thing you are, but the War proved that you belong in Gryffindor. You were very brave." I smile at her words.

"Thank you. May I go in now?" I ask feeling exceedingly tired.

Slytherin fixes me with a beady glare, "Not without the password you can't," He says nastily.

I glare at him "Boomslang Skin" I state.

They all smile at me as the portrait swings forwards letting me into my new rooms. There is an area with two double seater lounges, a few armchairs around the glowing fire and a loveseat beneath a west facing window. And sitting in a squashy armchair that faces the door is none other than my worst enemy, Draco Malfoy.

He is watching me from his chair, the light from the fire making his platinum hair glow. I can't read his expression, his face is in shadow, but I can imagine he is sporting an angry look. I know I am.

"Granger, you had no right to say what you did to me" His words seem to curl like smoke though the air towards me, and his tone is deadly. I can't see past my incredulity; he has to be kidding me.

"Malfoy" I snarl, striding closer so I can yell at him better, "Are you really that thick? You really expect me to accept your apology? You must be really fucked in the head! Do you really think I could ever forgive you for that?" I demand, surely he isn't that stupid. He rises slowly to his feet and I can see his jaw working as his own temper flares.

"Granger I tried to make nice so that we could get through this situation without trying to kill each other all year. I thought that for a smart girl you might see that. But no, instead you wish death on me and my parents at the hands of the Dark Lord. What sort of bitch are you?" His voice lashes out at me as he strides closer until we are only a few feet apart yelling at each other.

"The only bitch I know is your good for nothing aunt. I'm so glad she's dead, but I wish I could have tortured her until she begged me for death Malfoy. She would have been insane before I had finished with her. Do you miss her, you pathetic piece of scum?" My words are harsh but I know that I mean them with all my heart. Malfoy whips out his wand and points it at me threateningly.

"Don't push me Granger" his greys eyes flash angrily. I laugh, and I hear the hysteria in it as I do.

"Of course Malfoy, defend the memory of your insane, cruel bitch-faced ugly slut of aunt against my words. Very gallant of you. You're unbelievable! We may have been childhood rivals Malfoy, but what sort of sick twisted cunt sits and watches a girl he grew up with being tortured and carved up like a fucking Christmas roast? You just fucking sat there and stared at me you bastard! I pleaded with you to help me and all you did was fucking look away!"

I can't help it as I step forwards and slap him as hard as I can across his face. He stumbles sideways, and I see the angry red outline of my handprint on his cheek before he claps his hand over it.

"Do you know how that felt Malfoy? I felt like each of my bones were being sawn in half while I was flayed alive. But just as I got close to passing out that slut would stop long enough to keep me conscious. I had no control over my own body, and then she fucking carved me up. Look at it Malfoy!" I fling my arm out until its a few inches from his face.

"MUDBLOOD! And you just fucking sat there! I don't care if they would've killed you for it, you should have at least tried to stop her!" I glare at him as he stares at me in horror, still clutching his face where I hit him.

"Don't stand there and glare at me like some self righteous princess who's been wronged Granger. I know what it felt fucking like!" He yanks his own sleeve up angrily, uncovering the dark mark that is still tattooed into his skin. "The Dark Lord crucioed me while my aunt carved this into me with that damn dagger. Then they crucioed me some more while they rubbed in the ink, until I passed out. So don't fucking stand there and act like you're the only one who knows what it feels like to be Crucioed. You're pathetic Granger." Malfoy hisses at me, that ever present sneer back in his voice in spite of the evil smirk on his stupid face.

"The only pathetic one here is you Malfoy. You're a waste of oxygen and every breath you take offends me!" I hiss back at him.

"I didn't mean a word of my apology Granger. I've been hoping you'll die since first year. I hoped that you'd be killed by Aunt Bella."

I see red at his words. How dare he? Whipping out my wand I shoot a stunning spell at him but he's too quick.

"Uh, uh, uh, Granger." He smirks nastily waving his finger at me like I'm a misbehaving child, "You'll have to do a lot better than that."

I slap him again. Slap him so hard that it leaves my palm stinging and I see a tiny trickle of blood run down his chin where I split his lip.

"Don't you fucking touch me!" He hisses, his hands seizing my wrist with one hand and back handing me across the face in retaliation with the other.

"What sort of person hits a girl?" I gasp, my cheek aching from the blow as I blink rapidly to try and keep consciousness.

"You're not a girl" he hisses at me, eyes glittering coldly "You're the pathetic excuse of a mudblood little bitch who never learned to respect her betters. I always thought someone needed to fuck some sense into you and now we have this shared dormitory where no one but us can get in. Meaning no one can interrupt when _**I**_ fuck some sense into you."

"What are you saying?" I snarl, feeling dread curl in the pit of my stomach. His grey eyes are gleaming with evil malice. "Are you threatening to rape me, you sick little ferret?"

"It's not rape if you enjoy it Granger." Malfoy hisses.

"You'll have to kill me Malfoy. Because if you even try it I'll neuter you" With that said I throw a punch at him, managing to drag my wrist out of his grip even as I bring my knee up to try and knee him in the groin. He's expecting my knee though and he blocks it with his thigh, but stumbles backwards when my fist connects with his right cheek.

As soon as he stumbles I yank my other wrist out of his grip and race for the stairs that hopefully lead towards my dormitory.

"You'll have to do better than that Granger." Malfoy snarls "You hit like a fucking girl."

I scream when I realise he is right behind me and leap for the stairs.

I don't get there. His hands wrap around my ankles and I fall forwards only just managing to keep my face from slamming into the steps as I catch myself with my hands, grazing them in the process.

"Get the hell off me Malfoy!" I shriek as he chuckles evilly and uses his grip on my ankles to drag me backwards.

"You're going to pay for hitting me Granger," He says as I feel him crawl on top of me.

Surely this can't be happening. I hear myself begin to sob n panic as his weight pins me against the musty carpet. I tense up when I feel him lift himself off me, even as he drags me up off the carpet, wrapping his strong arms around my ribs an lifting me into the air. I kick and try to dig my nails into his skin before I remember something.

The dagger that Bellatrix LeStrange used to carve the word Mudblood into my arm, that she threw at Dobby and killed him with, is something I've been carrying around since that day. It's an evil, cursed dagger and I happen to carry on me at all times. Still kicking and fighting to keep Malfoy from realising what I am doing I dig my hand inside my shirt, seizing the dagger and dragging it out of the protective sheath I carry it in.

"I'll kill you for this Malfoy" I shriek at him before I latch onto his arm and slice at it with my dagger. Slicing through the fabric of his Slytherin jersey, I work quickly, knowing he'll drop me as soon as he realises what I'm doing. The best thing about this dagger is that it's so incredibly sharp that unless it's dragged over your skin slowly, you can't feel the quick slashing cuts.

And there is only one thing I can think of to carve in to Malfoy's disgusting arm to make sure he never forgets the fact that he should've done something to help me that day.

Malfoy drops me as soon as I stop and he feels the sting of what I've done.

"What the fuck did you just do?" he howls at me. I turn to watch him drag up his sleeve, revealing the Dark mark on his arm and the word I have carved into his flesh above it in messy slashes. He stares at his arm in horror while I walk away. In the firelight behind me his blood glows red and begins to drip to the floor, exposing a single word.

 _ **Hermione**_

The pitter-patter sounds of his blood dripping onto the floor are interrupted by the sound of him gasping in horror. I glance over my shoulder at him, still moving quickly towards the stairs that no doubt lead up to my dormitory. His face is contorted in rage and his eyes are fixed on me. He bends quickly and scoops up his wand, aiming it towards me. I spin on my heel and silently produce a shield charm in between us to block any spells or curses he will no doubt hurl.

As I stand there he rushes towards me, leaving a thick trail of blood droplets in his wake. He really should try to seal the skin so he won't bleed to death. He begins throwing curses at me silently, the jets of light blindingly bright in the dimly lit room as they rebound off my shield.

I feel the twisted thrills curl through me at his anger. Oh so delicious. Call me perverted if you will, but since the war ended a strange part of me is thrilled by the feelings of hatred and anger within me, and I love to inspire it in others.

Perhaps that's the real reason things didn't work out with Ron...

I look up when Malfoy shrieks in rage. He runs the few metres that separate us; my shield doesn't stop him, it is not designed too. And I cry out just a little bit as he slams into me, shoving me back against the wall. The impact winds me and I gasp for breath. His bloodied arm smears his supposedly superior blood over my clothes and my skin as his hand finds my throat.

"You bitch, Granger!" he shouts in my face. With his uninjured arm he backhands me across the face again. My throat betrays me as I whimper. This time he hit me a lot harder than before. I turn to leer at him, my cheekbone aching from his blow, realising too late that since he was already threatening to rape me, that likelihood has shot up dramatically now that I've sliced my name into his arm.

"Malfoy, you're spilling your precious 'pure' blood all over a filthy little Mudblood. You ought to be ashamed." I admonish him nastily, trying to put on a brave face as the shock of what I've done and the revenge he will exact begins to sink in. It hasn't really occurred to me that I should be afraid of him yet, in spite of the fact that he'll definitely rape me now. But I still have my dagger and my wand. It's not like he can inflict more damage to me than his scumbag Aunt did. In many ways I have been numb to pain since that day.

Malfoy's eyes bulge as he stares into mine. I give him my best deadpan look. His face contorts and his fingers around my throat begin to tighten. His other hand takes hold of my wrist and slams my hand repeatedly into the wall until I drop the dagger. He kicks it away beneath one of the far couches after it clatters to the ground.

"What the fuck is wrong with you Granger?" He demands when I keep my fear from showing at his less than subtle death threat, fingers still tight against my throat, slowly cutting off my oxygen supply.

"Malfoy I long ago grew out of fearing pathetic Death Eaters, your Aunt took care of that." I hiss nastily "And now you'll have a pretty scar just like mine so that every time you see it you will think of how worthless you are, and of how you sat like a coward while she tortured me."

Malice creeps into his eyes and an evil little grin slides across his face. I can feel his blood slick on my chest. It has dripped down my cleavage soaking into my bra and school shirt.

"I had heard that you went a little insane after the war ended. You really are fucked up aren't you Granger?" He whispers sounding perversely aroused by the idea and leaning in so that he can hiss into my ear, his lips brushing the sensitive shell.

"Hmmm, well, not quite yet you're not." He muses softly before swirling his tongue into my ear. I hiss angrily, but he just chuckles.

"You aren't just going to get away with this Granger" he says, sliding his sliced arm across my blood slick skin "I'm going to make sure you're fucked up Granger. I'm going to fuck you until you bleed. You'll be sorry."

I breathe in sharply as I feel his free hand, the one that isn't pinning me to the wall by my throat, sliding up my inner thigh. I knew wearing this damned skirt was a bad idea. And to make matters worse when I woke up this morning I realised I'd already packed all my underwear, so I'm not currently wearing any.

"Really Malfoy, I don't think your dear Mummy will approve of you fraternizing with a lowly Mudblood like me" I taunt trying to keep up bravado as dread curls in the pit of my stomach. This is really going to happen. I can see it in his eyes. He might have only been threatening me and trying to scare me before when he told me he'd fuck some respect into me, but now he's going to do it out of spite to exact revenge for what I just did to his arm.

He hisses in appreciation when his hand beneath my skirt discovers I'm not wearing panties.

"Granger both of my parents are locked in Azkaban. They won't ever know about what I do with my life. But I think they would be proud of me for punishing a useless Mudblood. You should be grateful Granger, if I had tried to help you that day they would've had me rape you there in front of all of them, then they would probably have let Greyback have you. He liked them young, said the meat is better," He nips at my earlobe and I feel goose bumps rise on my arms. "And he likes to fuck and eat at the same time, I'm told."

"You're worthless hands have no right to touch me Malfoy. Get the fuck off me or the next time I take to you with my dagger I'll bury it in your black heart" I hiss at him pushing against his chest with my hands. His free hand is still beneath my skirt. He pulls back to look at my face as I gasp.

"Oh no Granger, that's not how it works. You've drawn my blood, now I get to draw yours. So I either get to fuck you until you bleed, or I carve my name into your thighs with your little knife. Your choice, Granger." Malfoy's fingers beneath my skirt tease at my flesh and I bite my lips as I realise that he really is going to let me choose which option I find less offensive.

On the one hand, if he cuts me with my dagger I'll have the words DRACO MALFOY carved into the insides of my thighs forever. On the other, the very idea of having sex with him is repulsive. But ultimately, with enough therapy and a whole lot of drugs, or alternatively a memory charm, I can forget about it if I have sex with him.

"Hmmm so ready for me Granger" He whispers, his eyes boring into mine as I glare my hatred at him. I hiss as one of his long cold fingers slides between the sensitive flesh at the junction of my thighs and begins tormenting the already stimulated flesh because until now his finger has been teasing my clit.

"I think I have my answer" he smirks when his finger comes back out dripping wet, a wicked smirk gracing his features when I whimper as he replaces the first finger with three. He draws his hand away slowly, scraping his fingernails across my sensitive inner wall as he goes. I glare at him as I bite down on a moan.

"You won't do it Malfoy, you're too scared" I say deadly soft. I could let him think this is against my will but really it's not. After all, I'm making the choice to let him fuck me to keep him from slicing up my thighs.

He raises his eyebrows at my words and leans in close to me, pressing his body along the length of mine and despite my hatred for him it feels delicious. It's been so long since anyone touched me that even his repulsiveness isn't enough to stop it from feeling good. His hands tease my flesh as he slides his free hand beneath my shirt and my breath hitches at the sensations as he drags those cold, clever fingers over my sensitive nipples. I can feel myself gasping for breath. I bite down on my lips until I taste blood.

"Malfoy I want your word that if I do this you won't cut me," I snarl at him, trying to ignore how good it feels to have his fingers pumping in and out against my special spot.

"I don't make promises Granger, but if I draw blood this way then I won't the other," He murmurs, his grey eyes boring into mine.

I might as well play along with this, after all, I am enjoying his touch. And if I have to fuck him then I might as well actually try to have fun doing it. Even if he is repulsive. I let my voice turn husky and just a little bit sultry.

"Hmmm, that feels nice Malfoy, who knew you had any idea how to please a girl?" I say.

Malfoy looks stunned, as though he just found out the truth about Santa Claus.

"You will pay for that insolence Granger" he says.

I raise my eyebrows "Are you just gonna talk Malfoy or are you actually gonna man up and get this over with."

His hand moves to his fly, deftly undoing the button and zipper that holds his jeans closed. He is commando. I gasp, impressed by what I see.

Let me just say at this point, Viktor was a little disappointing in size, and he really didn't seem to know how to use it that well. And Ron, well I will clarify that Ron was a true ginger, the carpet definitely matched the thatching, and to be fair he wasn't small. I'm kind of proud to say that I taught him how to use it. But Malfoy, wow!

Now I'm no idiot and I knew that he had a reputation for being a man-whore while we were at school before the war. Every girl he'd been with apparently readily testified that he was the best each of them had ever had, but part of me always wondered if a lot of them were a little scared of what he would do to them if they said otherwise.

"Like what you see huh Granger?" He says, smirking at me and I realise I have been staring. I flush angrily.

"Actually I'm a little disappointed to be honest. I had heard good things, but then most of the hype you base your ego on is lies anyway," I say nastily.

"Give you disappointed" he says as he presses his body along the length of mine

"Granger," he says, drawing my eyes to his face. I glare at him as I realise what he wants. He wants me to look him in the eye and know that I made the choice to let him fuck me like this. I grit my teeth.

"I'm going to fucking kill you for this" I snarl at him.

Malfoy just smirks at me evilly and having already lined up our privates, he gives one violent thrust and I hiss at the combination of pain and pleasure at being violated this way. He bites down hard on the skin of my throat as he buries himself to the hilt, stretching me to the point of being uncomfortable. I will definitely have marks there tomorrow.

I hiss again as he pulls back out only to ram right back in again and I feel the burn of my skin it tears because in spite of what he did with his hands, I wasn't wet enough for this. He fills me until it's unbearable and when I realise that his throat is right next to my face because he's still biting down on my neck, I lunge forwards and close my teeth against his pale skin. Malfoy hisses in response but he doesn't pull away from me. Instead his hands seize both of my wrists and slam them against the wall above my head while he slams into me so violently that I know he's already managed to fuck me until I bleed. He is anything but gentle as he rutts against me, but lately I'm realising that I'm not really into gentle. Because in spite of the malice and violence in each thrust I feel my body responding to him and I bite on his skin hard enough to break the surface as an orgasm rips through me.

Malfoy chuckles evilly against my neck as he feels the walls of my pussy pulsate wildly at what he is doing to me. But he doesn't stop. He just keeps going and going until I lose count of how many times I've orgasmed.

When I can barely stand, Malfoy releases my wrists and leans against the wall, still buried within me as he pauses to catch his breath. I have to give it to him, he has impeccable control.

And suddenly I see my moment. I can't let him keep going or I'm going to black out from exhaustion. Rustling up my last reserves of energy I shove against his chest. He isn't expecting it and he stumbles backwards, his cock sliding out of me wetly. I make a break for it, sprinting towards the stairs. Malfoy roars in anger and is hot on my heels. He grabs me around the waist, our momentum tumbling us forwards. I feel the carpet bite into my palms and my knees again. Nice, carpet burn, real sexy Hermione!

"I'm not finished with you Granger, I haven't made you sorry yet," He growls from behind me. I hiss when his fingernails dig into the flesh at my hips as he jerks my ass into the air and flings my skirt out of his way. He pulls me upwards until I am on all fours before slamming into me again. Burying himself cock deep in my stinging, torn, abused flesh.

I squirm and buck beneath him, anything to get away.

"Fuck Granger" he whispers and I realise that all I am achieving is bringing him pleasure. I let my arms go limp, but sadly I don't fall to the floor. He just holds my hips high, keeping me in place.

My whole body aches as he pounds into me with bone jolting force.

Finally, I feel him tense "Oh Fuck" he curses softly.

He lets go of my hips when he is done. I grunt as the wind is knocked out of me as he lets his weight fall forwards onto me. I breathe in deep breaths of the strange smell of the carpet, with him lying on top of me. I hear him take a deep breath in and I realise he has his nose buried in my hair.

"This won't be the last time Granger. This may become as permanent as my new scar." He threatens softly.

I feel half dead when he leavers himself off me and so I don't realise what he is doing until it's too late. I try to scream when my body goes completely limp and I no longer have any control over it, but whatever he has done to me keeps me from moving at all, even though I can still feel everything. He flips me easily and I scream internally when I see my dagger in his hands, still bloodied from where I sliced into his flesh. He kneels in between my spread legs, pure evil glittering in his eyes and though I can't move I writhe in agony as he digs the dagger into my inner thighs. On my right thigh I feel him carve a word in large, elegant letters as though he were using a quill instead of a dagger, before carving a second, longer word into my left inner thigh.

"In fact I think that it will be as permanent as both of our new scars Granger" Malfoy says, icy glee in his voice and in his eyes. I don't even have to sit up and look to see what he has done. I already know that forever more, every time I spread my legs I will see the elegantly carved words;

 _ **Draco Malfoy**_

When I wake up, I feel like I must have died and gone to hell. My whole body aches deep in my bones and I gasp as pain shoots through me when I try to sit up. It seems sitting is going to be impossible. Somehow I manage to drag myself out of bed and, whimpering with every step I stumble to the bathroom.

I gasp in horror when I open the door. Draco Malfoy stands there in the bathroom we are expected to share. He is naked but for a towel wrapped around his hips. I whimper again at the sight of him, not because he looks amazing with no shirt on, but because I don't have any energy to fight him and I really need to shower so that I can get ready for class. He smirks at me when I glare at him and I feel completely disarmed by the fact that unlike me, he isn't sore at all.

Not even caring that he's standing there I slide down the door frame in defeat, hissing in pain when I sit on the ground and pain goes stinging through my body from my abused privates and destroyed thighs.

"Look what you did" Malfoy's voice says, drawing my eyes back to him as he holds out his arm showing the dark mark and the scabbed over word I carved into his skin. I also notice a bruise and scabbed up bite mark on his throat where I latched onto him with my teeth while he fucked me and his lip is still a little puffy and has a cut on it from where I hit him.

"Look what you did." I retort, sitting there in the doorframe in my night gown, lifting the hem and spreading my legs to show him my scabbed over wound and still swollen privates, glaring at him miserably.

He smirks at me, "You look pathetic."

"Go fuck yourself" I snap at him.

"And you still haven't learned respect. Do I need to fuck you again?" he threatens softly.

"Do I need to carve my next word into your forehead?" I snarl back.

"Granger get up and get dressed. If you're not bright eyed and bushy tailed in class the teachers will blame me and then I'll have to fuck you all over again to remind you of your place."

"What is wrong with you?" I demand, disgusted with him.

"Some crazy bitch carved up my arm."

"Oh really? I can't imagine what that must be like for you!" I growl, shoving my own sleeve up and showing him my scar before indicating to my abused thighs as well.

"Whatever! Now get up" He snaps at me.

I glare up at him before attempting to tense my muscles in order to get to my feet or even my knees. Immediately they scream obscenities at me and I slump back against the door frame.

"Fuck off Malfoy" I tell him as he stalks towards me in just his towel.

"Relax Granger, there's no use fucking you again now. The old hurt will just blur into the new." He tells me sadistically when I cringe away from him.

"I'm going to kill you for this."

"No you won't. You won't even report it because if you do, I'll report that you carved this into my arm. And since my scar is now permanent, it's not like the evidence is just going to go away."

"I hate you Malfoy, and I have just as much evidence of what you did!" I snarl angrily but he doesn't reply. Instead he bends down and scoops me up in his arms, carrying me against his hard chest across the bathroom before depositing me in the shower on my feet.

"Can you take it from here?" he asks.

"Just get out," I growl at him, even as I try and fail to struggle out of my night gown.

Malfoy just smirks down at me before he pulls my gown off my body.

"Turn around Granger." He tells me when my arms jump to cover myself even though I'm still wearing a bra and panties.

"No. Get out."

"Granger, just shut up and turn around so I can undo your bra. You can't get it yourself." He tells me. I just glare up at him.

"Ok fine" He snaps before reaching around and unhooking my bra one handed. "Wear your hair down, you've got a bruise on your neck. And you need to wear make-up. There's a bruise on your cheek where I hit you."

"That, I will kill you for. Don't you ever hit me again Malfoy" I snarl at him "Or I'll cut your dick off while you sleep."

He just smirks at me and turns on the cold tap of the shower before walking out of the bathroom.

Three days later my privates are still tender but my thighs have healed over into a scarred tribute to what he did to me. Outside of our dormitory Malfoy pretends he doesn't even know my name, even if it is carved into his forearm, but any time we're in the heads quarters at the same time he returns to being the evil, twisted self-satisfied jerk he's always been.

I sigh as I enter the common room of my dormitory and find it empty. The last three days have been hell. This year is all about establishing new unities with old enemies, and since me and Malfoy are not only enemies, but also the brightest in the year and Head Boy and Girl, we've been paired together in almost every class that calls for group work. And every single time I look at him I want to rip his face off and burn out my memory since I've been unable to successfully modify my own memory of the fact that I, Hermione Jean Granger have had sex with Draco Malfoy.

I flop into one of the vacant armchairs, trying not to stare at the patch of wall where Malfoy pinned me while he fucked me. Suddenly I remember that Malfoy kicked my dagger over under the couches when he was done with it and I haven't thought to pick it up since. Sliding off the couch I get down on my abused hands and knees, trying not to wince as the carpet burn on my knees protests to being leant on. I spot it under the far couch and crawl over, retrieving it just as I hear his voice.

"You know Granger, if you really wanted me fuck you again that badly you could've just asked, you didn't have to present yourself to me like that," He sneers and I realise that my short school skirt is probably revealing my knickers. Good thing I wore one of my nice pairs today.

"Malfoy if you come anywhere near me I'm going to carve your heart out and feed it to you," I tell him as I get to my feet clutching my dagger in my hand. His eyes land on it and I see hatred flicker in his eyes.

"You still haven't paid for what you did to me Granger," He tells me softly "And we both know I can disarm you easily."

"I've limping for the last three days because of what you did to me Malfoy. And I have a worse scar than you do. You'll be lucky if I don't carve my surname into your forehead so just fuck off," I sigh, sinking into the armchair behind me

"I'd say you're just about healed up too," Malfoy muses cruelly "Accio Dagger."

I go tense as the dagger shoots out of my hand and over to Malfoy where he proceeds to throw it against the far wall, imbedding the small blade into the hard wood like a dart into a corkboard. Malfoy stalks towards me slowly, eyeing the gap over my cleavage where I have undone the buttons of my school shirt. Leaping to my feet I slap him as soon as he's within range.

"That's for what you said in class" I snarl referring to the fact that earlier today in Potions he had commented on my skill with a knife while I was cutting up roots for the potion they were forced to make together.

"And this is for raping me" I growl, swinging my fist towards his slowly healing lips. He catches my fist before it can connect and squeezes it, making me whimper as pain shoots up my arm.

"I thought we made a deal not to hit each other Granger." He says, twisting my arm with his grip on my hand until I am forced to stand with my back to him. Slowly he wraps his arms around my waist, pinning me against his strong chest with my arms trapped by my sides. I wriggle, trying to squirm away from him, but he just chuckles into my ear.

"You know Granger, all this feistiness you've been expressing is kind of a turn on," He murmurs, his teeth grazing my ear harshly. "In fact I'm thinking that if you keep it up you and I are going to have to come to some sort of arrangement."

I shudder when I feel his lips trail a line of kisses against my throat.

"What are you on about? Let me go!" I snarl, still trying to fight my way out of his evil clutches.

"I think that all that anger and fire you keep showing can be put to better use, don't you?" he murmurs, one hand sliding beneath the hem of my shirt and teasing my skin as he slides it up to cup my right breast, kneading it through the lacy fabric of my bra.

I try to ignore the way my body responds to his touch. Since the other night, every time he touches me it feels like little sparks of electricity flicker and zap me. And I refuse to let myself read into it, knowing from past experience that those little sparks signal attraction. And I'm not willing to admit that I might be sexually attracted to Draco Malfoy.

"You waste so much energy fighting with me. I think that from now on we can channel that anger into more violent sex rather than just violence. Because if you keep hitting me I'm going to end up fucking you anyway. I vote we take out the hitting part and get right to the fucking."

His hand on my breast and his mouth on my neck send goose flesh racing across my skin and a spike of hot desire straight to my clit at the very idea of fucking him again. For just a moment I let myself give in to the sensations, letting my head drop back to rest against his shoulder and giving him better access to my neck. I whimper when he takes full advantage of my sudden surrender and hiss in pleasure when his free hand slides beneath the waistband of my skirt, into my panties, his fingers finding my sensitive clit and tweaking it wickedly.

Subconsciously I feel my hips begin to roll in time with the little circles he draws, pressing against my clit and eliciting a moan from me.

"What do you say Granger?" he murmurs huskily into my ear, slowly walking me towards the stairs that lead to his bedroom. "Would you object to playing enemies with benefits with me?"

I gasp when his finger slides inside me and he begins to stroke it against my special spot, having no trouble finding it.

"Always so wet for me Granger," Malfoy says huskily and he begins walking us up the stairs. I swear I've taken leave of my sense beneath his skilful hands and mouth because the next moan he elicits from me come out as a word.

"Ok."

Malfoy chuckles wickedly and walks us faster, timing each step with a stroke of his finger and a tweak of my nipple.

"Where are you taking me?" I murmur, opening my eyes when his hand on my nipple disappears to open a door.

"My room. McGonagall said she's coming by later to discuss duty rosters. Don't exactly want her to walk into our common room and come across us fucking," Draco grunts, dragging his hand out of my knickers and stripping me of my shirt even as he pushes me into his room and kicks the door closed.

I turn towards him in my skirt and bra. Surely I've gone mad.

"What did I just agree to?" I ask him, feeling my head begin to clear now that he's not touching me.

"Fucking me on a regular basis, preferably violently," He tells me as he advances towards me.

I back away from him until my knees hit his bed "Why? Why did you even suggest this?"

"Granger, you're constant questions are a pain in the arse," He tells me, stalking towards me until he has his hands wrapped around my waist. "We're going to be fucking on a regular basis because we have to share this stupid dormitory and even just looking at you makes me angry. Only now as well as angry, you make me horny because I've seen your fucking orgasm face."

"So what you're saying here is you hate me but you want to fuck me again?" I smirk at him.

"I'm saying you drive me insane and I drive you nuts and if we don't end up fucking each other we're going to kill each other since this is only the third day of term and we've already beat the shit out of each other, carved each other up and fucked so hard that you've been walking bow legged for the last three days."

I feel my eyebrows rise in shock. He kind of has a point. I think that if we don't do this we really will murder each other. Or I'll murder him anyway.

"If you weren't such a fuck-head we wouldn't have this problem," I tell him, trying to ignore the feel of his hands on my breasts since he somehow undid my bra without me noticing.

"Granger just shut up and let me fuck you," He smirks at me before leaning down and capturing my lips with his, sticking his tongue in my mouth to silence me.

Kissing Draco Malfoy feels strange and amazing at the same time. He's particularly good at it, just like everything else but I can't help feeling the thrill of doing something wrong. Because everything about this whole thing is wrong. It's bad enough that I let him fuck me the other night to keep him from carving his name into my skin, only to have him bloody well do it anyway, but this time I have willingly agreed to shagging him. More than once.

Figuring that I can always change my mind after, I let myself give in to the sensations of him touching me and kissing me. My hands find the clasps of his pants and make short work of them, before I pull back from him to drag his shirt off him.

He smirks down at me, undoing my skirt and watching it slide down my legs. His thumbs slide beneath the waistband of my knickers and flick them off me. When we're both naked he kisses me again, and my eyes slide shut at how good it feels.

I gasp when he lifts me up and impales me on his cock.

Oh sweet fucking Merlin it still hurts!

My already tender privates protest at the invasion as do my recently scarred thighs and I whimper but Malfoy just smirks as he swallows the sound and keeps right on kissing me. I gasp when he topples us back onto his bed and shiver at the feel of his silk sheets against my skin. My hands claw at his back as he finds a rhythm and slams into me with as much force as he did three day ago.

"Fuck I hate you," He growls when he pulls away from kissing me to hiss angrily as my nails break the skin, clawing bloody gouges into his back.

"And I want you dead" I tell him breathlessly as I bring my legs up to wrap them around his narrow hips. "Yet here we are. Now shut up and make me scream like you did the other day."

Malfoy smirks down at me evilly and picks up the pace of his thrusting.

"Why am I not surprised that you're just as bossy in the bedroom as you are everywhere else?" he chuckles wickedly.

"Malfoy shut up. Hearing your voice makes it a whole lot harder to pretend you're someone else."

"Fuck you Granger," He snarls angrily, accompanying the statement with a particular nasty jab of his cock into my tender parts. "You're a filthy little mudblood whore that no one else stoops low enough to bother fucking!"

I smirk. I seem to have hit a nerve.

"Actually plenty of other people want to fuck me. I'm part of the trio that saved the world. But no one wants to fuck you, Malfoy. You're the disgraced Death Eater who didn't even have the bollocks to do what your lord commanded," I snarl right back at him.

I gasp when one of his hands wraps around my throat and he fucks me even harder than he did the other day. My insides revolt against the abuse and he smirks at me wickedly as the first orgasm crashes over me. I back hand him as it does, enjoying the way his eyes flash molten fury.

By the time we are done I know that I won't be able to walk properly for another three days and somehow we end up fucking up against the wall in the shower.

"This is going to kill me" I groan, when he pulls out of me and my knees buckle as I slide down the wall of the shower.

"No Granger, this is to keep me from killing you," He tells me as he slides down the wall next to me.

I tilt my head back into the spray of the three shower heads that all pour water down onto the two of us. The warm water feels amazing against my overstimulated and abused skin.

"So now what?" I ask him, turning my head to look at him. He is sitting next to me with his knees drawn up and his elbows hooked over them, hands dangling between his legs. His platinum hair has fallen forwards beneath the spray and I notice that he looks far more handsome when he doesn't slick it back.

"Now we pretend to the rest of the world that we haven't fucked and still hate each other as much as ever," He replies without bothering to look at me.

"Oh I still hate you just as much as ever. I won't have to pretend."

"The point is, outside of this dormitory we don't let on that we've seen each other naked. And even when you drive me nuts in class I don't pin you to the nearest flat surface and fuck you. You don't give me that wicked little grin you get when you're cumming and when I make you mad you don't hit me, you wait until we're back in here and then unleash your fury." He says, smirking.

"Are you trying to tell me I can't argue with you in public anymore?"

"No, but the more we fuck the more you'll want to pick fights with me," He says cockily.

"You say that as though you're actually any good at this," I smirk.

"If I'm not then why don't you get up and walk out of here?" His grey eyes meet mine as he glances sideways at me, knowing that my legs have turned to jelly and there is no way I'm going to be able to walk out of here.

"Why are we fucking each other?" I clarify.

"Because it gives me a legitimate excuse to wrap my hands around your throat until you scream that keeps us both out of prison."

I start to laugh. This is completely ridiculous.

"So you and me are really going to play enemies with benefits?"

"We already have." He smirks at me evilly, "Wanna play again?"


	3. Dark Obsession

**Summary:** Draco Malfoy knows there's a darkness inside of him, one he can't always control. Especially when Hermione Granger is involved. DM/HG. One-Shot. Complete.

 **Dark Obsession**

 _By Kittenshift17_

The cloaked figure made her way up the long and winding path towards the Hogwarts castle sedately. The downpour of rain and the dark clouds that marred the late afternoon made her almost impossible to distinguish from the darkness. The cloak was long and a deep shade of grey that blended well against the dismal backdrop the Forbidden Forest made. She trudged as she made her way towards the Entrance Hall.

He watched her from a second floor window, overlooking the grounds with a sneer marring his pointed face. He didn't need to see what was under the hooded cloak to know it was her. He'd know her anywhere. He'd been watching her for years now. Years he'd spent, learning every nuance of movement, every tenor and tone, every expression. He'd know her even if she changed her face and shore off that mess of dark curls.

His lip curled back in distaste with himself even as he fixated on her movement in the deepening dark. He hated himself for his inability to let his infatuation go. Even the acknowledgement of such ridiculous feelings for the girl was enough to make him sick. He hated himself for being so intrigued by her. For falling into the tangled web of secrets, lies and intrigue the filthy little mudblood have weaved.

She had a gift for it, he would admit. One that had ensnared him well before he had any business caring what it was that women like Hermione Granger did with their time. He was ashamed to say he'd taken the job offered to him as Hogwarts Potion Master because of her. He'd have turned McGonagall down flat if he hadn't been uncomfortably aware of the fact that Granger already worked at the school as the current Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher.

He'd only been there a couple of months and he cursed the fact that even now he found himself paying more attention to her than to what he was supposed to be doing. He had so hoped that after the war was over and after he'd finished his own schooling he'd have outgrown his ridiculous fascination with her. The fact that he was standing in his office watching her returning from Hogsmeade instead of preparing for the night ahead was despicable.

Tonight was All Hallow's Eve. Halloween. Samhain. The singular night that existed every year when the veil between worlds was thinnest. It was also the night that in the spirit of childish innocence and fun, Granger had talked McGonagall into having a Masquerade Ball in addition to the regular Halloween feast Hogwarts had hosted for many years. He was supposed to be preparing his costume and ensuring that everything would go off without a hitch, as was his responsibility as a Hogwarts teacher.

And instead he was squinting out his window at a woman who rarely looked sideways at him. Narrowing his eyes at her for the fact that she was such an interesting distraction, Draco Malfoy turned his back on the window, leaving her to walk the remaining length of the path to Hogwarts unsupervised. Instead he made a focused and conscious effort toward preparing the rest of his costume for the evening's festivities.

The enormous black feather wings growing out of his back from between his shoulder blades rustled slightly as he adjusted his cloak. He'd gone to special trouble to concoct and brew a potion that allowed a human drinker to temporarily sprout the wings of a dark angel and he was going to be using it to wicked effect this evening. They were so large he wasn't sure how he would go about controlling them all night, but he would do so. Each wing was at least seven feet long and heavily feathered. He knew that if he wanted to he could take flight out his window and swoop down on Granger and he had to resist the urge to do so.

Draco would admit that he had something of a flare for the dramatic and as he picked up his elaborately designed metal mask and slipped it over his face he felt a smirk crawl across his face. To say that he was going to enjoy the anonymity of the Masquerade theme was an understatement. He intended to take full advantage of it, in the most satisfying of ways. The rest of his costume, while impeccable was designed to be memorably forgettable. It was designed to stick in one's mind long enough to inspire interest and curiosity, but not so long that he would be remembered as being the one who'd worn it.

The use of several elaborate charms designed to further disguise his true identity left Draco feeling particularly wicked indeed and he allowed himself a cruel chuckle. Sweeping the deep blue velvet hood of his cloak up to shield his hair from view and to provide himself an air of mystery, he swept out of his office and stalked the halls in silence. Everywhere he went as he made his way towards the Great Hall, children were screaming and laughing. They had been permitted the opportunity to attend Hogsmeade earlier in the week, where many of them had taken the liberty of purchasing costumes for the evening's festivities and if he weren't in such a loathsome mood, Draco might've awarded a few of them house points for their dedication and creativity in choosing their costumes.

He'd always appreciated the dramatic arts and the fact that so many of the students had gone to such effort to truly capture the essence of their costume inspirations was indeed commendable. As he swept into the Great Hall, Draco allowed himself a small smirk of pleasure. Several of the younger students screamed at the sight of him, simply out of fear and surprise over how mysteriously and dangerously anonymous he appeared. The wings were a fantastic touch and he couldn't resist the urge to spread them wide in order to further terrify the children. Unable to see his hair and unable to detect the regular grey of his eyes, he felt their intrigue and fear that he was really some kind of dark creature they'd not learned about yet. It pleased him. If it was having this effect on the students Draco could barely wait to see the effect it would have on Granger.

It had taken him longer than he cared to admit to master the potion he'd used for the wings. They had full movement and he had complete control over them the way he did over every other limb. If he wanted to take flight around the rafters he could.

His eyes scanned the Hall quickly in search of her, lingering on the form of a witch in a full ball gown. He dismissed the woman quickly, realising it was Professor Sinistra and not Granger. Even in Masquerade he had no doubt he would know Granger on sight. She might be able to tame her wild hair and to conceal her familiar face. She might be able to hide herself away inside a costume she would ordinarily never even consider donning. But she couldn't hide from him.

Draco Malfoy had spent twelve long years learning everything about Hermione Granger. It had begun as a simple reconnaissance mission on the orders of his father to investigate those that Harry Potter associated with. But Draco wasn't fool enough to believe that his interest in her hadn't morphed into something else. Something more. He wouldn't say he was in love with her or anything so disgustingly romantic and misinformed. In all honesty he often could barely stand the woman.

She regularly infuriated him and more than once in the past he'd fantasised about doing terrible things to her. His fascination with her bordered on obsession. And not always the good kind. Draco didn't delude himself into believing he was hopelessly in love with her. He wasn't. You couldn't be in love with someone who liked to pretend you didn't exist most of the time. You couldn't love someone who eyed you with disdain when she was forced to acknowledge you were in fact a part of the world. At least, Draco couldn't. More than once he had imagined what it might be like to wrap his hands around her throat and squeeze the life out of her.

More than once he'd fantasised about the way her body would feel between his hands. If he was completely honest, Draco would simply describe his obsession with her as being unhealthy. He was disgusted with himself for having grown obsessed with anyone, but it seemed that fact was not to be helped. There was nothing he could do about it. He knew. He'd tried. He'd tried distracting himself with other witches, bedding some of them, courting others.

None of it had helped. All throughout his own years at Hogwarts and continuing into his adult life, Draco had learned to live with the fact that his mind often wandered to Hermione Jean Granger. No matter the fact that she was a mudblood. No matter the fact that she was a stick in the mud. A tempestuous swot who got on his last bloody nerve more often than not. No matter the fact that she'd been dating that ginger-haired oaf on and off for years. Draco didn't care about any of it.

Well.

That wasn't entirely true. Thoughts of the fact that an oblivious, insensitive sod like Weasley had captured and held her attentions and affections had more than once driven Draco to violence. It bothered him more than he cared to admit that she was so interested in someone so clearly beneath her. She might be an annoying little mudblood, but even Draco knew that she deserved better than the likes of such a gormless bastard as Ronald Weasley. She was brilliant where he was dull. She was clever where Draco had found Weasley to be stupid.

She was meant for bigger things than being chained to a stove raising children and fixing the meals of a man who didn't even appreciate her. Not that Draco wanted her for himself. At least not all the time. Sometimes he wanted her. Sometimes he wanted to shove her against a wall and snog the daylights out of her. Other times he kind of wanted to unleash the cruelty he knew he was capable of and leave her a sobbing, bleeding mess on the floor.

But other times he just wanted to make sure she knew she deserved better than a git like Weasley. Not that she ever acknowledged his existence long enough to hold even a passing conversation with him, let alone to have a serious and frank discussion about her poor life choices. Draco chuckled darkly to himself at the very notion of her doing so. She despised him. That much was clear. She only tolerated his existence for the sake of their jobs, and even that was done frostily.

She preferred to pretend he simply didn't exist and in the two months since he'd taken the position as Potions Master, Draco would admit he'd done all he could get away with in order to provoke her. He made her students late for class. He awarded students points for menial things if Granger had docked points for something else. He purposely collided with her in the corridors as often as he could get away with. He purposely seated himself close to or next to her at meals.

He interrupted her when she spoke and he did all the things that annoyed her. All the things he knew that irked her, learned from the long years he'd spent studying her. And the list as long. He delighted in it. She could hardly pretend he didn't exist when she wanted to scream at him and tear his hair out. She couldn't remain disaffected by him if he made himself a constant thorn in her paw. And Draco was a particularly prickly thorn.

The minute Granger arrived in the Great Hall, Draco became aware of it and his whole body throbbed with desire at what he saw. She was mesmerizing. Draco couldn't help but notice that like him, she had done all she could to achieve anonymity. Her bushy brown curls were gone, temporarily replaced with a sleek silver sheet that hung all the way down her back in a glorious blonde curtain. Her costume had clearly been inspired by a Veela.

She looked phenomenal. There was no hint that she was Hermione Granger, bookish war-heroine turned Hogwarts Professor. The unflattering robes she ordinarily war to work had been discarded, leaving in their wake a form sitting gown of silver silk. Her honey-brown eyes were hidden behind a beautiful white and silver feathered mask and her usual stomping gait had been left behind. In its place was a smooth, alluring stalk of utter seduction and Draco's hands begin to itch with the need to explore every curve she had on display.

Merlin curse it all, she wasn't supposed to be so beautiful.

People stopped mid conversation to stare at her as she walked into the hall and Draco couldn't resist the urge to make a true spectacle. Slowly unfurling the enormous black-feathered wings on his back as he moved, Draco hunted her across the suddenly still dancefloor.

None in the hall but Draco himself knew the true identity of the beautiful Veela, nor the Dark Angel, but Draco could hear the shocked whispers and hopeful utterances that he was heading for her. The little witches of the student population with engorged romantic notions were about to see a true romance paly out. He hunted her silently, his feet making not a sound as they struck the stone floor. His wings rustled the closer her came and Draco could barely contain the urge he had to pounce on the object of his dark obsession.

She eyes him with hood curiosity and Draco smirked cruelly when he caught sight of just hint of desire in her dark eyes. She couldn't hide from him. Even dressed such, her identifying features blurred and concealed, Draco knew her. He knew everything about this witch.

"I've been waiting for you," he told her when he reached her, adopting a voice he knew she wouldn't recognise as belonging to Draco Malfoy.

"Have you?" she replied and Draco could've died a happy man to hear the sultry tease in her tone.

He didn't speak again. Instead he simply took her hand, drawing her closer until he could grip her waist with his free hand. She played along perfectly, her hand coming up to rest upon his cloaked shoulder, her eyes awestruck as she came so close to his wings. The band struck the cords of a slow song as Draco drew her into a dance. All around the hall, whispers and sighs could be heard above the music at the sight they made and Draco was struck by the appropriateness of their costumes.

Hers was an embodiment of light and love and goodness. Dressed as she was she glowed like a beacon of all that was right in the world. By comparison his own costume was also telling. His hood concealed much of his face, his masking concealing the rest. He'd used charms on his eyes and his hair to hide their usualy light colour beneath a layer of darkness. His wings, black as midnight, embodied his own dark desire. His own wickedness. Draco wasn't fool enough to believe that without the costumes she would ever willingly dance with him.

"And who might you be under all this?" Granger asked, going up on her toes and leaning into him, her face nosing aside his hood until her warm lips brushed his ear.

"You'll never know," Draco promised her, returning to touch with a gaze of his teeth against her earlobe. She quivered in his hold.

"Are those wings actually real?" She wanted to know, her voice turning husky and letting Draco know she was affected by his touch.

"As real as you and I," he told her, furling them close until the length of them wrapped around her. She trembled at the feel of the feathers against her bare flesh and Draco felt her hand leave his shoulder to brush almost fearfully over the feathered limbs. She trembled at the touch as it rocked through him. They might be the result of a potion and only a temporary additive to his body, but they were as sensitive as any other part of him.

"You can feel that?" she asked in a whisper, turning slowly on the spot.

"As much as you can feel this," Draco murmured to her, his eyes feasting on the sight of her sensually plump lips. He brought his hand up slowly to tangle in the hair and the nape of her neck, using the grip to tilt her head back slowly.

He wondered if she would push him away. If she would recall her sometimes boyfriend. He didn't give her the chance to object. Not when he'd been waiting twelve years to taste the sweetness of her tongue. When he brought his lips down to meet hers, she kissed him hungrily. Draco almost staggered at the passion of the kiss she gave him in return, her tongue sweeping tauntingly against his own and a little sigh escaping her. Her small hands clutched at his robes greedily, trying to pull him even closer as though she could barely get enough of him.

Draco's whole body roared to life at the feel of her in his hold. Finally. Every fantasy he'd ever indulged, every wild imagining of how her mouth would taste beneath his paled in comparison to the feelings and the passion she aroused within him in that moment. His arms and his wings furled around her tightly, clutching her close. His heart hammered inside his chest, desperate never to let her be free of him. Not now. Not when he knew how well she fit against him.

He lost himself in the feel of kissing her, his hands wandering her body hungrily, revelling in the way she clutched him just as desperately. She'd clearly forgotten all about Weasley. He couldn't get enough of her. On some distant subconsciousness Draco knew that they were making a scene, that they were setting a bad example for the students under their care, but Draco couldn't find it within himself to stop. She was like a drug. He craved her with such ferocity that it made his whole body tremble.

The sound of some clearly their throat disapprovingly from close by made Granger jump in his arms, jerking herself back from his lips and pushing on his chest in surprise. Draco unfurled his wings so quickly that several people gasped and the witch interrupting them jumped back in shock. Granger still clutching fistfuls of his robes tightly in her hands, using it as though she couldn't decide if she wanted to shove him away or pull him close again.

"This is hardly appropriate," Headmistress McGonagall scolded them though Draco was barely listening. Granger was staring at him wide eyed in shock, desire and a glimmer of fear flickering in her gaze.

"My apologies, Headmistress," Granger murmured, "Who are you?"

Draco felt a wicked smirk grace his features.

"You'll never know," he swore again, refusing to share his identity. He never would. He needed the witch. Desperately. And he would have her. Whether it would simply be in his bed or chained to him for the rest of his life Draco didn't yet know. All he knew was she would be his.

"You don't even know who this is?" McGonagall demanded, "For that matter I don't either. Both of you reveal yourselves this instant."

"It's me, Headmistress," Granger whispered, "Hermione…."

"Miss Granger?" McGonagall gasped in shock, "What do you think you're doing kissing a perfect stranger…. I thought you and Mr Weasley…"

She trailed off, clearly not wanting to sound judgemental. Granger bit her lip with mortification. Her eyes closed in horror as she recalled her lover and Draco felt the cruel smile on his face grow feral. Weasley would never get her back now. Not now that Draco knew how her delectable mouth tasted.

"Oh my gosh… I…. Let me go, whoever you are! Let me go. I have a fiancé."

Draco saw red at that and his grip on the witch tightened.

"Let me go, I say!" Granger hissed, her brown eyes flashing dangerously.

Draco saw through her anger to the fear within her when his wings rose slowly, stretching to their full and intimidating span.

"Never!" he snarled his answer to her demand in her face. She screamed when his arms encircled her just before air rushed against his feathers, sweeping them both up high into the air. Draco clutched the object of his obsession possessively, unwilling to ever lose her now. She fought in his hold, clearly furious and terrified but Draco was beyond caring. The darkness was back, poisoning his soul and making him crazy. It was the darkness that had inspired fantasies of killing the delicate little witch in his arms.

This time however, the darkness wanted none of her death. It just wanted her. Any way it could have her.


	4. His Darkest Secret

Draco Malfoy knew he was in trouble when he fell to his knees on the unforgiving stone floor of Malfoy Manor before the Dark Lord.

"My, my… Draco," the evil, whispery voice of the snake-faced man before him practically purred with delight. "You _have_ been busy this year."

Draco paled.

He _knew_. He knew and the bastard was going to tell everybody.

Draco should've known the evil son of a bitch would rummage around in his head for an explanation as to why Draco's efforts to do the Dark Lord's bidding had been mediocre at best. And now the bastard knew everything. He knew about the questions Draco had been asking himself late at night as he lay in bed, staring sleeplessly at the ceiling and contemplating his weakness and the fact that he was sure he not only couldn't murder Albus Dumbledore, but also that he didn't _want_ to and so would _not_ do it.

He knew that Draco had been thinking about approaching the leader of the Order of the Phoenix and begging on his knees to be given sanctuary for himself and his parents. He knew that Draco had been doubting his loyalty to the Dark Lord and that he'd done a lot more than change his opinion regarding his feelings towards Mudbloods. Draco couldn't exactly argue about their supposed inferiority when he was dating one, now could he?

And that was perhaps the worst thing the Dark Lord could know. He knew about _her._

The gleam in the bastard's terrible red eyes made Draco whimper pathetically, like a beaten puppy who knows more brutal abuse is imminent and fears even the sight of his tormentor. In that moment Draco knew fear. He'd thought, prior to now, he'd learned what it meant to live in fear, but he'd been wrong. Compared to the stark terror pulsing through his body with his rapidly racing heart and the thump of his pulse in his ears, that had been but a blip on the spectrum of what true fear really was.

Draco feared the Dark Lord's punishment for this disloyalty. He feared the scorn of his parents and his fellow Death Eaters. He feared the pain he knew he would suffer for his blatant disregard for all the Death Eaters were _supposed_ to believe in. Most of all, he feared what the Dark Lord would do to Hermione. Already she was a prime target for attack due to her relationship to Potter and her inside knowledge of the Order's plans. Already she was an insult and a contradiction to the message the Dark Lord and his followers were spreading about the inferiority of mudbloods like her.

After all, one could not argue that mudbloods were less magically gifted when she proved them all wrong, every single day, in every single class with every act of magic she executed. She was the reason the Dark Lord would fail, and Draco had foolishly become not just involved with the young woman. No, he'd had to make things ten times worse and fall in love with her.

And the Dark Lord knew every thought inside Draco's head. He might as well just kill himself now.


	5. Just A Minute Longer

**Summary:** "What was that for?" he asked when she finally pulled away several minutes later, his voice husky. "You kiss even better in real life" Hermione murmured, her forehead resting against his intimately. "You were dreaming about snogging me?" he asked sounding smug now, his arms still tight around her waist, holding her captive and not letting her go. Dramione Post-Hogwarts One-Shot

* * *

 **Just a Minute Longer**

 _By Kittenshift17_

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Hermione Granger blinked across the table at the familiar face of the blonde haired man who stood there, balancing a child on each hip. How could it be that her life had turned out this way? Fifteen years ago, she most certainly would not have ever expected that her life would turn out this way. That she would fall in love with Draco Malfoy and marry him. That they would build a family together. She never imagined that he could be so different from the cruel, spiteful boy he'd been in their early years at Hogwarts, and that he could turn out to be the most wonderful and loving man she'd ever known. She'd certainly never imagined that even after being married for almost twelve years and having five children with the man, he would still be able to make her heart flutter and make her feel like she'd missed a step coming down the stairs every time she looked at him. That with just a look he would still be able to make her feel all quivery and jittery the way he'd done when she was just a teenager, and make her want to forget everything else and simply go to him and let him make her feel things she'd never felt with anyone else.

As she stared at her husband, she felt that familiar swell of love and admiration for him, and was unable to restrain the delighted smile that crept slowly across her face. He was entirely too handsome for his own good, especially when he'd just come home from work and so looked just the right amount of sophisticated, yet ruffled from his day. She imagined that in comparison she must look a frightful mess with her hair tied up in a messy knot on the top of her head, yoga pants that had I small hole in one knee and several stains of various substances on them, paired with an oversized house shirt that hung off one shoulder and probably smelled like baby vomit thanks to the baby son she'd finally managed to get down for his nap not twenty minutes prior.

In spite of her happiness to see him, Hermione knew her mind was still running a mile a minute. She needed to make sure the kids all got their homework done, and she had a pile of laundry that she needed to get to if they were to have clean uniforms for tomorrow's school and various extra-curricular activities. They still needed to be fed and all of them needed to be bathed, not to mention that Scorpius's birthday was coming off, and she simply had no idea when she was going to find the time to duck out and grab him something, because even when he and his siblings were at school, she still had Volantis and Fornax at home to care for and run after.

She felt like she hadn't had a spare minute all day and she simply couldn't describe how happy she was to see her husband finally home, even if only so that he could entertain the kids long enough for her to get everything done that she'd not managed to get to yet. She stared at Draco in relief, unable to take her eyes off the sight he made and feeling her heart give a painful squeeze of love and happiness.

On his left hip, a five year old girl babbled about the cartwheel she'd learned to do at her gymnastics lesson earlier that afternoon, still dressed in her pretty pink leotard and black tights. Her platinum blonde hair, identical in colour to that of her father's, was pulled up into a hair ponytail on top of her head, where the unruly, waist-length curls had been tamed into a single plait that hung down her back and bounced as she chattered animatedly.

On his right, the three year old boy, also as blonde as his father, was repeatedly whacking at the side of Draco's head with a stuffed toy dragon while making roaring sounds amid a confusing dribble of toddler gibberish. The boy wore blue denim overalls with no shirt underneath it because he'd wriggled around in it earlier until he got out of the shirt while Hermione had been fighting with their one year old to eat his lunch, and she'd not been able to get hold of him for long enough to get the shirt back on the little rascal.

Said one year old was currently asleep in his cot upstairs.

The seven year old hadn't bothered to get up to greet her father yet, still sitting at the kitchen table with her nose buried in a book about monsters. Her curly brown hair was filled with unnatural looking platinum highlights that she'd had since birth – her hair a strange combination of both her parents' that hung down her back and across the table, cocooning her face around her novel.

Hermione sighed, wondering where her nine year old son had run off to. Most likely he was out in the garden again, tormenting the gnomes and sneaking up on the bunnies that called their overgrown, sprawling mess off a garden home. He liked to try and catch the bunnies in increasingly inventive ways. Last week he'd waited until the rabbits were nibbling at the lawn before sneaking over to the entrance to their burrow and lining it with a bait net he'd absconded with after the last fishing trip he'd been on with his grandpa.

Draco shot her a wink when she met his gaze again, clearly pleased to be home, even if it meant he had to tolerate the bashing of a rambunctious three year old and the chatter of their five year old daughter. In spite of the long day she'd had fighting with her children to do their homework from the muggle primary school they attended alongside Harry and Ginny's children, and Ron and Lavender's brood, not to mention Luna and Neville's two daughters, Hermione found a smile tugging at her lips at the sight of her handsome husband smirking at her knowingly.

She ought not to encourage him. He had that twinkle in his eye again. The one he got when he'd done some thinking and decided that another child was just what they needed.

As if they needed any more than the five they already had.

Hermione loved them to pieces, but some days – like today – she couldn't wait until they were all shipped off the Hogwarts simply so she could have a moment's peace.

"And how's my beautiful wife this evening?" Draco asked her, rounding the table, still carrying their three year old son, Volantis, since the boy had clearly decided that his father's hair was the perfect nest for a toy dragon.

"I'm alright" Hermione admitted, smiling up at him tiredly "Happy to see you. How was your day?"

"Fantastic" he replied, looking entirely too delighted to be home and making Hermione melt for him all over again "Business is booming, and I get to come home to the most beautiful woman in the world and all our charming children. Well, most of them…. Where's Scorpius and Fornax?"

"Scorpius is in the garden" Hermione told him, trying to wrestle Volantis off Draco even as Lobelia – the five year old, began tugging on the front of Hermione's shirt, wanting her attention. Hermione already knew the girl was going to ask how long it would be until dinner. She was always hungry, that one. Hermione ignored her long enough to finish answering Draco. "Fornax is asleep upstairs."

"Scorp chasing those rabbits again?" Draco asked, grinning over the heads of their children and waving his hand to tell her not to bother trying to fight Volantis off him, clearly not minding at all the way their son was tugging on his hair as he clomped the toy dragon around on Draco's head, his roaring growing louder the more he fought against Hermione's attempted to pry him off his father. The little bugger was too strong for her already and Hermione dreaded to coming years as he grew, because he was so impossibly naughty all the time that she had no idea how she was going to convince him to do as he was told without having to scold him and shout at him all the time. She really didn't want to end up like Mrs Weasley, needing to shout at her children all the time when they got into mischief, but Volantis was truly a little terror. He had all the charm and adorableness of his father, and already he used it shamelessly to his advantage to get away with all manner of naughtiness.

"As always. He's been after the gnomes as well. I've been doctoring gnome bites all day because when he was over at Molly and Arthur's with Ginny and Harry's kids last week Molly had the kids help her de-gnome the garden. Rather than flinging them away when he pulls them up he's been penning them. I caught him dragging Lobelia's doll house out there earlier with the intention of giving them somewhere to live." Hermione sighed, giving up on prying him loose and feeling the need to tear her hair out. All she wanted was to kiss Draco hello, but she knew that wasn't going to happen with Volantis hanging off him, because that was a sure-fire way to get that annoying little toy tangled up in her own hair, which was far less pliant than Draco's and so often resulted in Hermione losing precious strands to the snagging feet and legs of various toys. For all that he lied to make Draco's hair a nest for his dragon, Volantis absolutely loved getting the toy tangled in her hair and informed her just last week that he hair made the best dragon nest because it was already so much like a nest that he didn't even have to swirl his toy about to make it nesty.

"Rascal" Draco laughed, clearly more amused than annoyed that Scorpius had been causing mayhem all bloody day.

"Dinner will be ready in twenty minutes Lobelia. I want you to go upstairs and have a shower so I can wash that uniform for tomorrow before then, alright?" Hermione told the girl tugging on the front of her jumper insistently as she tried to get her attention, growing impatient with the constant tugging and having to bite her lip to keep from snapping at the girl, who'd already asked about dinner seven times in the past twenty minutes because she could smell it cooking on the stove and hadn't liked being told that she couldn't help cook it because she always liked to throw in whatever she could find in the cupboard and especially the spice rack, even when they were things that most certainly should not being going in spaghetti and meatballs. The last time Hermione had let Lobeila cook the girl had upended a jar of nutmeg into Vegetable chowder and destroyed the meal, though she had proceeded to insist that she wanted to taste what she'd made, and had enjoyed the meal so much that she'd had three bowls of a meal she usually fought with her mother about having to eat at all.

Hemrione feared the days when Lobelia would go off to Hogwarts and no doubt wreak havoc in a potions classroom. She could already imagine the letters she would be sent about it!

"Yes Mummy!" the little girl cried, delighted at the idea of being allowed to shower. She was a complete scallywag and would stay in there playing with her dolls in the bottom of the shower all night if Hermione would let her.

"Turn around so I can untie your hair please" Hermione told the girl, knowing she wouldn't be able to get her hello kiss from her husband until she and the three year old had been dealt with. While Hermione untied Lobelia's long hair, she watched Draco moved over to stand beside their seven year old daughter Cassiopeia, where she was still seated at the table reading her book. Hermione tried not to notice the sinewy grace of Drac's movements, but found herself biting her lip just the same and she admired the smooth line of his body.

"What are you reading this time Cassie?" Draco asked the seven year old girl sitting at the table.

"Monsters" she replied. It was her favourite and Draco turned to Hermione, rolling his eyes over the head of their eldest daughter even as he bent down to kiss the top of Cassie's head in greeting.

"Alright, sweetheart, your hair's fixed. Make sure you put the timer on for ten minutes while you shower. If I have to come up there and get you out for dinner again you're not going to Gymnastics for the rest of the week." Hermione warned Lobelia even as the girl dashed out of the room giggling gleefully at the idea of getting to shower. Hermione rolled her eyes at the child. Anyone would think she'd been deprived of bathing, when more often than not Hermione had to make sure she was bathed two or three times a day because she had a habit of spilling paint, or food, or just about anything else likely to make a mess and stain her clothes.

"Volantis, what on earth are you doing with that dragon?" Hermione groused when she turned to find the boy trying to stuff the tail of the toy into Draco's ear while he stirred the pasta she had cooking on the stove. The little boy froze beneath his mother's sharp tone and Hermione watched him turn to her slowly, his grey eyes huge and wide with imagined innocence, even as he continued trying to fit as much of the tail into Draco's ear as possible. She narrowed her eyes on the boy, and on Draco, who was clearly in too much of a good mood to mind the intrusion. The again, after being repeatedly bashed in the head with the toy, it was probably a welcome change.

"What have I told you about sticking things in people's ears?" She demanded of the three year old, who had the decency to look contrite for all of twenty second before his father's signature smirk arranged itself on his adorable features and he wriggled for Draco to let him down. The minute Draco put him down, he dashed off, waving the toy about and making the types of whooshing, roaring sounds she expected he believed a dragon would make whilst flying, though he sounded more like a very unhappy aeroplane

"You're stressed tonight" Draco commented casually, turning to her in the kitchen and reaching for her, pulling her against his chest. Hermione pressed her face into him, breathing in the zesty lemon and mint scent of him that she loved so much. She never felt happier and more comfortable and safe and at home than when she was pressed into his chest like that, cuddled up in his arms, knowing that in spite of her bad mood and her no doubt disgusting and tired appearance, he loved her wholeheartedly.

"They've been a handful today and I had the worst time trying to get Fornax fed and down for his nap with Scorpius crashing about and yelling in the backyard." Hermione told him quietly, her cheek pillowed against his hard chest comfortably as she absorbed the comfort he offered her. She felt herself begin to relax immediately, already feeling better simply to have him holding her. His presence was like a balm to her bad mood, and she felt it melting away the longer he held her, his hands sweeping up and down her back lovingly.

"Sometimes you wish they were all as behaved as Cassie, don't you?" he teased lightly, while the girl at the table was sneaking glances at them over the pages of her book. Hermione didn't even have to look at him to know he was probably smirking and looking entirely amused by the way she clung to him almost desperately. He was her life raft every evening after a day of drowning in the constant chaos of having five children under the age of ten, all of whom were entirely too mature for their age, and yet entirely prone to fighting, shouting, screaming, and getting into as much mischief as possible. She hadn't really understood before having them, not only how difficult and tiring it was to have children, but how stressful it was to have magical children. Her muggle friends didn't have anywhere near as much trouble with their children as Hermione did, simply because they didn't accidentally make things explode with their minds, and didn't shatter glass when they screamed in a temper-tantrum.

She'd never been so grateful than when Susan Bones, a girl from their year at Hogwarts, had opened up a primary school for magical children in their neighbourhood. It was a relief to have her children attending school alongside the kids of her friends, not to mention to have them under the supervision of a teacher who didn't panic if one of them accidentally levitated themselves on top of the building or make flowers bloom simply by smiling at them.

"Then I'd have to worry about what sneaky plot they were getting into while I wasn't looking, rather than just dealing with the chaos" Hermione chuckled in response to Draco's question about all of the kids being more like Cassie, who was very mature and behaved, but also prone to scheming and playing elaborate pranks on her siblings, her friends, and occasionally her parents. Hermione and Draco had no doubt that Cassie would be sorted into Slytherin the minute she attended Hogwarts. She was clever and cunning and her impossible high level of logic and intelligence meant she had no qualms about rules, because she was able to logically rationalise her way into reasons that the rules were restrictive and incorrect and therefore ought not to be followed.

"Where's my hello kiss?" Draco asked her, smirking into her face when she lifted her head to peer at him "I haven't seen you all day and I come home to be attacked by the horde. I need my kisses woman!"

Hermione thought about scolding him, but she kind of liked the way he sounded so exasperated every time he called her 'woman'. Instead she wrapped her arms around his neck and went up on her toes, pecking him lightly on the lips. It took a monumental amount of effort to pull back after such a brief, chaste kiss, but Hermione managed it, feeling a little thrill run through her when he tried to pull her in for more.

"That's all I get?" he asked, sounding just like her indignant nine year old when he'd asked for chocolate earlier.

"Have you earned anymore?" Hermione teased him, enjoying the feel of being in his arms and exalting in the thrill of pleasure and desire at knowing how much he wanted her, even when she looked like hell. The cunning expression that slipped across his handsome face in response to her challenge made her quiver with excitement and she giggled like she was still sixteen when he suddenly dipped her right there in the kitchen, planting a toe-curling kiss on her lips.

Hermione sank into the feel of his lips moving over hers, sighing against him when he slipped his tongue into her mouth cheekily and made her forget all about her stressful day with the kids. Her hands knotted in his silky hair and Hermione heard the little whimper he elicited from her, liking the way he swallowed the sound as he snogged her hungrily. His hands on her lower back kneaded at the knotted muscles, turning her to putty instantly and Hermione wondered if there would ever come a day when she would tire of the way he could make her heart race with just a hot look.

When he slowly pulled away, lingering to steal several close-mouthed pecks from her as he slowly stood her straight again, Hermione sighed blissfully.

"I missed you today" he murmured to her softly, cuddling her close again, his forehead pressed intimately against her as he peered into her eyes.

"I missed you too. Tell me you don't have to go in for the rest of the week." She replied, always dreading every morning when he left for work, knowing how much she'd miss having him around all day, even after all this time.

"I don't have to go in for the rest of the week" he grinned at her and Hermione rolled her eyes. Of course he didn't. He owned the company. That meant he could do whatever he wanted and none of his employees would bat an eye – especially when so many of them knew how many kids their boss had. In spite of her mild irritation at the idea that he was so in control of his company that he could easily give himself the rest of the week off, Hermione felt a thrill to know he would spend the rest of the week with her. She knew the kids would love it, they always loved having him around all day because he invented wild games to play with them, displaying a wild imagination and knack for amusing himself and others that Hermione had been surprised to learn he had the first time he'd done so.

She knew it stemmed from the fact that he had grown up and only child with little interest in book outside of his studies. He much preferred to invent a wild game with Scorpius and Cassie in the backyard treehouse he and Hermione had built, shouting and laughing about invading pirates. He was particularly gifted at the charms and magic needed to completely immerse them all in the world he invented too, so by the end it truly did feel as though rather than a game, they'd actually been on a wild adventure across the high seas chasing pirates, or trekking through an Amazon jungle searching for lost treasure.

She looked forward to simply having him home too foe her own selfish reason, because she adored his company and knew that when he wasn't playing with the kids, he would putter about the house helping her with whatever jobs she'd missed, shooing her away if she tried to do it and telling her to go and read a book and put her feet up. He had a knack for tiring the kids out too, and when that happened he would always come in and sit with her wherever she was, tucking her up against him while she read, before he would inevitably grow bored of sitting still. Then he would start to play with her hair, and begin peppering kisses against her neck tantalisingly. Soon he'd slip his hand under her shirt and trace ticklish patterns over her skin and work her into a right tizzy, until Hermione knew she'd wind up begging him to have his way with her. And he would smirk like a Cheshire cat at the very idea before he'd snog her until her toes curled.

"What are you smirking at?" Draco asked and Hermione blinked in confusion, a blush creeping up her cheeks at the idea of being caught fantasising about being seduced by her husband, before realising he wasn't talking to her.

Across the room, still sitting at the table with her book, Cassie was smirking at them happily. She watched them with a look on her intelligent young face that suggested she was examining her parents an approved of their behaviour, finding it entirely fascinating and intriguing.

"One day, when I'm older, my husband will come home from work and kiss me like that. And just like Mummy does, I'll forget all about my rubbish day and that the baby puked on me and that I stubbed my toes on the table every time I walked through the kitchen. I like it when you come home, Daddy" Cassie told them matter-of-factly, sounding far more like a teenager than like the seven year old she was. "You make Mummy happy the minute you walk in the door."

"She kicked her toes again, eh?" Draco asked his daughter, grinning knowingly at Hermione.

She kicked her toes every single time she crossed the kitchen chasing the unruly toddler and running for the door to get them all off to school and their various extra-curricular activities. And every single time she did it, Hermione would hop on one foot and curse and grumble to herself about Draco sodding Malfoy and all of his unruly children. She'd curse about letting him knock her up in the first place, and about him not being home, even if he was home at the time, and then she'd curse some more about the children and their running and naughtiness and exuberance and about how it was entirely unnatural for them to be so lively when they should all be calm and well behaved and mature like Cassie.

"Twelve times today so far" Cassie confirmed on her behalf while Hermione blushed some more and thought about the fact that she'd actually broken her toe earlier that day chasing Scorpius while he carried two gnomes about even as they kept biting him. The girl would know how many times it had been. She'd been sitting there most of the day with her book.

"You sure it was only twelve?" Draco asked, chuckling now.

"Yes, whenever she does it she starts cursing, so I hear her even if I'm out of the room."

Hermione blushed while Draco laughed.

"You need me to kiss you better love?" he asked her, stepping around behind her and cuddling her close.

"Don't you dare even think about getting anywhere near my toes" Hermione warned, knowing how he loved to hold her down and tickle her feet whenever he pretended he was going to help her.

"You know you enjoy having your feet tickled, love" he reminded her, grinning broadly when Hermione elbowed him in the ribs before he added in a husky whisper "You love what happens after I pin you down like that too."

"Draco" Hermione warned, even though her heart began to beat rapidly inside her chest at the mention of the activities that always stemmed from the two of them rolling around in bed together. The very idea made her insides clench with excitement and nervousness as though they were still silly, inexperienced teenagers rather than married adults with five children.

"You know, I was thinking as I walked in here, with you looking like such a delightful, hot mess" Draco began, murmuring in her ear now, his lips teasing the sensitive shell "How much fun it might be if later, after the kids are all in bed…."

"I know what you were thinking" Hermione interrupted before he could start whispering sinful scenarios in her ear about all the things he'd like to do to her. "I saw _that_ twinkle in your eyes and you can just forget it. We have five children as it is. Anymore and I'm going to tear my hair out."

"Who said anything about more kids?" he asked, chuckling wickedly "I was talking about all the fun stuff that comes before the next kid shows up."

Hermione shivered in his hold, trying to fight the sensations whirling through her at his whispered words and simply knowing that later, after the kids were in bed and the house was some semblance of being clean, he was going to climb into the shower with her and make her forget all about anything but how he could make her feel.

She was fighting a losing battle too, she knew, because when she looked over her shoulder into those stormy, lustful grey eyes, she just knew that come the morning she'd probably be pregnant again. That twinkle in his eyes was more than the usual hot look he got that told her he wanted to strip her naked and have his wicked way with her.

That twinkle was the one he got when he came home to a houseful of rowdy children, loving every minute of the chaos and the mess, and decided he never wanted it to end. Just last week he'd hinted at that in just fourteen short months Scorpius would be going off the Hogwarts for the first time, grousing about how much quieter and less chaotic the house would be without the energetic boy around.

Hermione had a terrible fear she was going to wind up with kids coming out her ears if Draco got his way. More than once he'd told her about how lonely childhood had been being an only child, not that he'd needed to, given that she'd been an only child herself. Hermione knew all about what it was like to grow up with no siblings to play with and fight with. She knew about the loneliness that had been all too poignant before she'd gone off to Hogwarts and made friends with Harry and Ron and Ginny. She'd known when she'd married Draco that they would have a few children, though she hadn't expected she'd wind up with five under the age of ten. She knew too, that with every child they had, she felt her heart swell with such an overpowering love for them that she wanted another and another and another, simply because of the joy it was to have so many wonderful children to love. That was one of the reasons they already had five!

"You're lucky I love you more than anything Draco Malfoy" Hermione told him in a whisper, feeling excitement pooling within her at the idea of letting him slowly peel off her clothes, knowing the way he always tried to make their love-making romantic and extra special whenever they began trying for another child. She could distinctly remember the romantic acts and passionate slow way he'd made love to her before the conception of their five children, and she couldn't wait to find out what he might have in store for trying for their sixth.

"Is that a yes to having more?" he asked hopefully even though he'd just denied wanting them, looking like I kids whose Christmases have all come at once at the very idea of being allowed to try for more.

"Fornax is almost two" Hermione said softly, musing about the idea as though she hadn't already made up her mind that another child would be okay with her "If we want to keep to our pattern I'd say we're due for another one about now."

"Maybe we'll get lucky and have twins" Draco suggested brightly, positively bouncing with glee at the prospect of more children. A huge grin had spread across his handsome pointed face, and he was cuddling her even closer now, nuzzling his face into her neck and tormenting her sensitive skin with feather-light kisses and little nips that cause goose-pimples of desire to race across her flesh in a tell-tale sign that she was enjoying his ministrations.

Hermione couldn't help but laugh even as Scorpius suddenly appeared in the kitchen, traipsing mud through the house. He was tall for his age, and as Hermione glanced at him, she noticed that he son needed a haircut. His blonde hair hung into his eyes in a way that would one day make all the girls swoon. He looked like an exact copy of Draco, tall with pale skin, silvery blonde hair and sharp grey eyes. He almost always wore a mischievous smirk on his handsome young face too.

"Dad look!" He cried out excitedly, holding up that old bait net he'd pinched from Arthur Weasley by the sinkers and showing off what looked like an entire sackful of rabbits, all packed in tightly and wriggling around as they tried to escape the confines of their newest prison, courtesy of Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy.

"How did you catch so many?" Hermione asked, aghast even as Draco began congratulating their son on his catch. The poor things looked like they were terrified and were no doubt far from comfortable in that ridiculous net.

"I didn't. I only caught one, but I was sitting there wishing I'd caught more when all of a sudden, more appeared in my net!" Scorpius explained, looking stoked and entirely too proud of himself.

"You conjured all those rabbits?" Cassie demanded, sounding positively livid at the magical feat as she lowered her book to glare at her elder brother at the idea of him achieving something of such a high skill level entirely by accident.

"Sure did" Scorpius smirked "Jealous?"

Draco looked at her over their heads as the children began to bicker about who was better at magic and whether or not it counted as a skill given that Scorpius had done it by accident. He beamed at her as he delightedly announced;

"We're so having more!"

Hermione jerked awake when she heard someone saying her name, startled an entirely confused.

"Oi, Granger?" the voice asked again and Hermione blinked blearily, trying to get her bearings. Where was she? Why did her cheek hurt? Was someone touching her? It felt like there was someone shaking her shoulder none too gently

"Granger, you awake?" the voice asked again, sounding just like the one belonging to the husband she'd just been talking to.

"Draco?" Hermione asked sleepily, squinting around before coming face to face with a much younger looking Draco Malfoy. He was standing beside her and she had to squint at him in confusion, trying to understand why he was shaking her, and why he looked different. Was it dark? She felt like it was a little difficult to see him, as though they were in a gloomy library.

"You done with that book?" he asked, completely unconcerned about having woken her or by the fact that she looked completely bewildered by where she was and why he looked different and why she could no longer hear the sounds of her children arguing.

"What book?" Hermione asked in confusion, "Where am I? Why are you shaking me?"

"The library" Malfoy said slowly, "At Hogwarts… Did you hit your head on something? I've never seen you look this confused. You're supposed to be the know-it-all and right now you look like you might drool on me… You already did drool on the book I need. The one you were just using as a pillow."

He eyed her as though she'd lost her mind.

"Hogwarts?" she asked, baffled by the information and wondering how she'd gotten there before being hit by an unsettling and entirely devastating realisation. "But I….. Oh my god, it was a dream!"

How could it have been a dream? It had been so vivid. So real. How could it be that she'd woken up in the library at Hogwarts, back in her Seventh year; Eighteen all over again?

"Are you alright?" he asked, looking mildly concerned and mostly like he wanted to flee the madwoman. He was eyeing her strangely, and Hermione squinted at him harder, wondering why on Earth she'd been dreaming about being married to and in love with this boy currently staring down at her as though she might have been replaced by a pod-person. His blonde hair hung in casual disarray around his face, longer than she remembered it being in her dream. His face was younger too, with less noticeable stubble dusting his sharp, pointed jaw. His grey eyes were narrowed slightly, watching her carefully as though he expected her to spontaneously combust, or perhaps as though he thought she might lose her temper and start shouting at him again, which seemed mildly more likely.

Hermione realised for the first time as she looked at him, her dream of their life together still lingering in the forefront of her mind, that Draco Malfoy was incredibly handsome. She'd never thought him to be so in the past. Even when the other girls at Hogwarts whispered that he was, she'd always thought that they were delusional and simply hadn't been able to see past his previously unattractive personality to even really notice any of his features. In fact before she'd had her dream, before she'd returned to Hogwarts to complete her final year and been forced into smaller, combined classes with him everyday, Hermione hadn't thought all that much about Draco Malfoy at all, beyond noticing where he was before the war in order to avoid being confronted by him whenever possible.

She knew now, of course, that he had drastically changed from the racist, cruel, vile boy he'd been before the war. His part in it, and the effects it had wreaked upon him had been profound, Hermione knew. She could see it just by looking at him. Rather than curling his lip in disgust or poised with a cruel insult on the tip of his tongue as he once would've been, now he watched her warily as though he was mildly concerned for her wellbeing and the fact that she seemed so disoriented.

"I was dreaming…." She murmured, staring into the younger version of the face she recalled from her dreams and wondering if it had simply been a strange dream or if there was a little more to it than that. Not that she liked acknowledging that Divination in any form could possibly have any validity, or that she considered herself to have suddenly been cursed with the ability to foresee and predict the future. Although she supposed that if it was the case, the one she had imagined had at least been a happy and bright future.

She'd been dreaming about being married to Draco Malfoy and having an entire brood of children with him. For just a moment Hermione felt a strange hollow emptiness in the pit of her stomach to realise that life she'd dreamed up was nothing but some strange fantasy.

She narrowed her eyes on Malfoy as she dismissed the idea as simply being a dream since she had certainly never experienced any kind of premonitions before.

"Why did you wake me?" she demanded, cranky and feeling a little like she'd just lost a part of herself. It was a strange feeling to be missing something she'd never truly had, nor even realised she might want, but as she stared at him, Hermione realised she did have a strnage yearning deep within her psyche to have children and a family. To get married. They weren't things she'd really taken the time to ponder before, simply because the war had caused so much uncertainty as to whether she would even live long enough to see such things. Yet, as she sat staring into the eyes of Draco Malfoy, Hermione knew she did want those things, and her dream suggested that having those things with him might be a fine idea indeed.

"You were drooling on a book I need to get my homework done." He shrugged unapologetically, pointing indicatively at the book she'd clearly been resting her cheek against, even as Hermione got slowly to her feet. She was only vaguely conscious of the ideas forming in her head, and yet as she moved Hermione found herself thinking not of the children she'd dreamed about, but instead of the kiss she recalled from the dream. The kiss he'd given her. The one that had made her toes curl with delight.

Draco continued to stare at her with that familiar smirk on his face, clearly thinking up the best way to torment her about having fallen asleep in the library, but before he could get a single word out about it, Hermione stepped into him and closed the distance between them, wrapping her arms around his neck in a way that felt entirely too familiar before going up on her toes as she planted her lips on his, snogging him soundly.

He made a strange sound of shocked protest for a moment, clearly surprised by the suddenness and uncharacteristic overtones of the action. His hands clamped down on her shoulders as he tried to push her away, but Hermione clung to him, her lips moving against his hungrily, demandingly. Her tongue swept out to press against the seam of his lips and Hermione smiled a little when he automatically flicked his tongue out to tangle with hers. She could feel his resistance weakening as the shock of being so suddenly snogged wore off and sensation took its place instead. His hands loosened slowly on her shoulders before he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her tight against his chest as he began to snog her back just as much passion and intensity as she was giving to him.

He tasted like mint and Hermione sighed against his lips when she realised that the zesty lemon scent of his skin was tormenting her senses. Her heart began to race inside her chest as she tangled her fingers into his hair, overcome with desire for him. With desire to kiss him for as long as he would let her, entirely enthralled by the feel of his fingers digging firmly into the flesh of her lower back, his thumbs circling in a way that made her turn to putty in his grip and simply made her melt against his hard body, moulding her own soft curves to his hard lines and enjoying the feel of having him so close.

"What was that for?" he asked when she finally pulled away several minutes later, his voice husky and breathless with yearning, his hands still hold her close as he peered into her eyes looking curious and mildly amused. Hermione was pleased by the fact that he looked considerably rattled as well by her kiss, indicating to her that much like she felt, he was feeling off-kilter and perhaps giddy over the kiss they had shared.

"You kiss even better in real life" Hermione murmured, her forehead resting against his intimately, revelling in the feel of having him so close, and feeling a strange sense of rightness settle over her to be in his arms. It wasn't something she'd expected, but as she peered up at him, Hermione realised that she felt liked she belonged in his arms, pressed against him so intimately. She felt like his touch had electrified her, sparking her body to life and making her feel needy and giddy and hit under the collar, while simultaneously feeling as though his mere presence made her feel calmer, more settled, and as though she could lean peer into his stormy grey eyes forever.

"You were dreaming about snogging me?" he asked sounding smug now, his arms still tight around her waist, holding her captive and not letting her go. Hermione liked the way his grip felt mildly possessive, as though the idea of her even trying to pull away from him was one he did not like and would not tolerate.

"Mhmm" Hermione hummed, eyeing his lips hungrily. "You can't imagine what else might've happened in there if you'd let me sleep just a minute longer….."

His familiar smirk quirked upwards cheekily "Oh, I think I can imagine" he purred at her suggestively.

With that, Hermione leaned into him again, snogging him wildly, even as his hands swept down her back, wrapping around the backs of her thighs until he could lift her up so she had her legs wrapped around his waist. Her arms around his neck were tight, and his lips on hers made Hermione want to kiss him for the rest of her life until she couldn't stand the pleasure of his touch a moment longer, and then she wanted to kiss him some more.

When he elicited a little moan from her, showing her just what might've happened if he'd let her dream a minute longer, Hermione found herself kind of hoping her dream had been some kind of premonition.


	6. The Man Under The Desk

**Summary:** Hermione smiled as she felt the tender line of kisses he trailed down her inner thigh while he pushed her chair out so he could climb out from under her desk. His grey eyes were dark with lust and laughing at her for the fun he'd had tormenting her in front of her boyfriend, and Hermione smirked right back at him, running her hands through his silky, white blonde hair.

* * *

 **The Man Under The Desk**

 _By Kittenshift17_

* * *

Hermione Granger was sitting in her office at the Ministry for Magic. She worked in the Regulation of Magical Creatures Department and was currently perched right on the front edge of her seat. She'd been trying to focus on the report she was finishing, but that was before the man currently kneeling under her desk had crawled down there, ridding her of her panties in order to bury his face between her legs.

She sighed contentedly at how good it felt, burying one hand in his silky hair and loving the way he rewarded her by swirling his tongue against her clit. She was having a hard time trying to focus on her report beneath the sure, steady and utterly relentless strokes of his tongue. The man under Hermione's desk was a particularly deliberate lover. Everything he did to her was designed to elicit utter, agonising pleasure.

And boy did he do it well.

Until she'd begun this little routine of debauchery, Hermione had never been loved so well. She felt like sometimes she lived for these late nights. His hands gripped her arse beneath her skirt, scooting her forwards a fraction more and nudging her legs even further apart as he moved in for the kill. That's what it felt like to be loved by him. It was an art of seduction that started with her feeling like prey and left her feeling utterly ravaged in the best possible way.

She hissed when he dipped his tongue inside and began working it furiously against her g-spot. Hermione groaned at how amazing it felt. He always seemed to know exactly what she needed. She felt the rush of wetness at how fantastic it felt to have him eating at her as though she were a goddess of nourishment. He growled in response at his now wet face, and Hermione knew he was getting his own wicked satisfaction to taste the effect he was having on her.

As he licked and suckled at her overstimulated flesh Hermione could feel the way her body began to coil. She knew that release was on the horizon and after the week she'd had she was was more than ready for it and had been looking forward to it all day. It had been almost impossible to share her office with him all day as she had done, the sexual tension between them so thick that you'd need a chainsaw just to cut through it. Sitting so close to him and being able to catch the wicked, heated glances he'd thrown her all day had been almost more than she could take and when eight o'clock had rolled around Hermione had been just about to crawl under his desk and go at him all night, except he'd beat her to it.

It was late in the evening, almost half past eight and she knew that soon Ron would come looking for her, wondering why she was staying so late at work tonight. Not that he wasn't used to her staying at work until late at night. He didn't like it if she brought work home, so she always stayed late enough to finish it all before going home. At least, that's what she told him she did. Most of the time it was more like she had to 'work late' as she shagged her colleague all over their combined office space practically every night.

She didn't know why bringing work home bothered Ron so much, since they didn't actually live together. They'd been dating since seventh year, but as far as Hermione could see, their relationship was mostly a sham.

At twenty-four she didn't really love him anymore, and she knew he didn't love her either. They were just both too chicken to call it quits for good since they didn't want to hurt each other. Which was how it came to be that the man currently trailing his cool hands up and down her thighs and slowly driving her insane as his tongue delved between her folds was pleasuring her in her office late at night when she should be going home to Ron.

The problem was that Ron was a selfish lover.

That was why she was being unfaithful. Well, that and the fact that he was just as unfaithful if not more so. He'd been running around on her with about three different women for years now and Hermione knew it. At first she'd been heartbroken that he would actually cheat on her, but she'd never said a word to him about it. Instead she'd bitten her lip and gone about her life, pretending everything was fine, not wanting to be the one to tear them apart. She'd been certain that it was something she lacked, skill as a lover or perhaps the ability to arouse, that had driven him to the arms of another.

For years she had tolerated it, refusing to move in with him when he asked simply because she didn't want to ever deal with the consequence of catching him out and having to confront him. But now…. _Well_ , Hermione sighed, _now she was getting her own satisfaction and revenge_.

Hermione squeaked in surprise when she heard the fireplace in her office start to roar and attempted to sit up straighter, taking her quill up quickly and pretending she was occupied with the abandoned report in front of her.

She tightened her hand in the silky soft hair of the man whose face was buried between her thighs, indicating for him to keep quiet and stop tormenting her while she dealt with whoever was about to land in her office.

"Hermione?" Ron Weasley's voice asked when he saw her bent over her desk, scribbling furiously.

"Ron?" Hermione asked, pretending she was surprised to see him. She wasn't. She knew he'd come to find her and she knew he'd pick the perfect time to interrupt since she been just about to come undone at the seams.

"You're still working," Ron said, his voice irritated and a little deadpanned.

"Yes, there are a few more reports I need to take care of tonight," Hermione told her, squirming a little in her seat. The wicked man with his skiful tongue beneath her desk knew all about her failing relationship with Ron Weasley and took sick pleasure in proving just how much better a lover he was than Ron. Hermione tried to pull his lips and tongue away from her dripping nether lips, nudging him with her knees when she heard him snicker very softly even as he started working her clit over with his tongue much more passionately than he had been.

"Oh how long will it take?" Ron asked her completely oblivious to what was happening on Hermione's side of the desk. Hermione quivered as the man beneath her desk suckled hard on her clit, eliciting another rush of wetness from her which he took great delight in lapping up.

"Erm… well I'm… not finished yet…" Hermione said, trying to keep Ron from realising what was happening, she kicked the man between her legs when he snickered again at the double entendre.

"Where's he?" Ron asked, nodding towards the second desk in her office. The desk of her co-worker… the desk that belonged to the man currently licking her out and driving her absolutely insane. He was making it practically impossible for her to hold a coherent conversation, and he knew it. Hermione wanted to roll her eyes as she thought to herself that he was probably finding this entire experience rather titillating.

"No idea. He left hours ago," Hermione shrugged as though she didn't care, "Probably off enjoying his Friday night."

The man they were discussing sniggered again, rewarding her with a long hot spear of his tongue right to her g-spot to let her know he was in fact enjoying his Friday night immensely. Hermione glanced down at her report, away from Ron so he wouldn't see the way her eyes rolled back at the pleasure that was literally driving her spare.

"Well, um…. Me and Harry have to go on a trip for work, leaving at nine tonight," Ron said, his ears turning a little bit red, "It's going to be for about three nights I think…. at least for the entire weekend. I um…. I guess I'll see you when we get back."

Hermione smiled at him sweetly, knowing it was a lie. She knew because today was Harry and Ginny's anniversary and Ginny had been planning a big romantic night for them for weeks. Hermione knew it was a lie, and that Ron was just coming up with some excuse to spend the weekend romping in the sack with some girl who wasn't her. The man under her desk knew it was a lie too and suckled her clit lovingly to prove to her all the reasons that Ron's infidelity didn't matter.

"Oh, ok," Hermione said feigning ignorance even as she felt herself teetering on the edge of release. Her heart was pounding in her chest at the thrill of almost being caught, and the wicked sensation of being unfaithful to Ron right in front of him while he was too dense and too much of a selfish lover to recognise her 'being pleasured' face and realise what was going on.

"Well um… be safe… I'll see you on Monday or something," she added, leaning forwards as Ron leant his hands on her desk and leaned down to kiss her goodbye. The kiss was chaste, but Hermione didn't feel even the tiniest spark of passion for him and she knew he felt none for her.

The skilful ministrator under her desk delved his tongue deep within her and Hermione sighed against Ron's lips at how good it felt, no doubt making Ron think that she was still in love with him and that just kissing him made her happy. He smiled at her as he moved back towards the fire.

"Bye, love," Ron said, a big smile on his face at thinking that he was getting away with cheating on her.

"Bye," Hermione murmured, watching the flames turn green as Ron Flooed away.

"Oh, my God," she groaned even as Ron disappeared while the man under the desk shoved her right into her orgasmic release with one final suckle. She felt her whole body quiver and shudder as the powerful orgasm ripped through her and she moaned some more at the way he kept eating at her as she came all over his handsome face.

Hermione smiled as she felt the tender line of kisses he trailed down her inner thigh while he pushed her chair out so he could climb out from under her desk. His grey eyes were dark with lust and laughing at her for the fun he'd had tormenting her in front of her boyfriend, and Hermione smirked right back at him, running her hands through his silky, white blonde hair and standing up with him as he got to his feet in front of her.

"So Granger," Draco Malfoy began, his voice low and husky with need as he stared down into her eyes hungrily, "Now that you've _finished_ … It seems like you have a whole weekend free of the Weasel."

Hermione grinned at the way he smirked at her being _finished._

"It would seem that way wouldn't it?" she teased him breathlessly. Draco Malfoy had never looked so full of himself and never looked so handsome as his eyes devoured Hermione's petite form.

"You should just ditch him you know," Draco told her. Hermione grinned. He'd been telling her that since the first time she'd climbed under his desk and sucked his cock with such skill that he'd all but declared his love for her.

"What, and ruin the thrill of sneaking around and risking being caught?" Hermione asked him coyly even as he pulled her against him and buried his lips against her throat, nowhere near done ravishing her for the night.

"Maybe…. I promise you'll still get that thrill when I shag you anywhere I feel like," he growled hungrily, making Hermione's stomach do a back-flip at the idea. She lived for the thrill of almost begin caught, and more than once she and Draco had been mid hook-up only to have a colleague of spouse walk in on them. She loved the icy hot thrill in her veins at swallowing his cock whole and watching him try to form coherent sentences as their boss asked him where Hermione was while she deep throated him, purring in satisfaction at the taste and feel of him.

Hermione had never taken him seriously when he told her to break up with Ron so they could shag without worry. She knew Draco was just toying with her to see if she'd really do it. That he got off even more on the fact that he was shagging Ron's girlfriend right in front of him, like he'd done tonight, licking her out while Ron watched. Draco was a little bit of an exhibitionist like that.

"Like where?" Hermione murmured in his ear, nibbling teasingly on the sensitive lobe, encouraging him to talk dirty to her.

"Like the Fountain in the middle of the office entry," he told her huskily, "I'd catch you as we walked by, backing you up to the edge of it, the promise of you being properly fucked burning in my eyes" he whispered, making Hermione shiver.

"To try and escape me you'd climb into the fountain, knowing there was no other possible escape from the ravishing you were about to receive… but as you turn and try to run from me, I'd tackle you in the water, trapping you beneath me," he said, his hands going down to cup her arse, kneading it with his strong fingers as he pulled Hermione against his body, letting her feel the hardness of his erection.

"You'd squirm and fight, knowing I was about to make you scream in front of everyone as I run my hands up the back of your thighs. You'd be wearing a pair of those crotchless panties that you love so much, making it easy for me to get at you….. you'd be able to feel my cock straining for release" he whispered in her ear. She could feel his erection against her stomach now, straining to be free of his trousers so he could bury it within her.

"I'd fight free of them with one hand while the other brought you off, rubbing that sensitive little clit of yours until I had you begging me for it, even as people looked on in surprise to see what I was doing to you… some of them might even take pictures of us when I grab hold of your hips and hoist this tight little arse into the air, flipping your skirt forwards to get a look at that pretty pink flower."

Hermione shivered at the hot and cold flushes racing across her skin even while she found herself rubbing her body against him needily. She had no idea how he managed to bring her to such heights with only words and some simple touches, but she never felt sexier or more desirable than when she was with Draco.

"You wouldn't even have time to draw in a breath to scream as I buried myself so deep within you that you'd forget everything but my name," his voice was a husky growling murmur that made Hermione want to purr like a kitten as she thought about how it felt the at last time he'd fucked her from behind the way he was describing.

"Can you feel it Hermione?" Draco Malfoy whispered into her ear, making Hermione quiver to hear him use her real name even while he'd begun to gently thrust his hips against hers, having already pressed her deliciously against a wall. "Can you feel the sawing of our flesh as I thrust into you? Can you hear the raw slapping sound of sex, heightened by the wetness of our bodies? Can you see the way the people are staring in shock and envy of how good we look together? Can you feel my hands biting into your hips to tug you against me even harder?"

Hermione shuddered, caught up in the scenario he'd painted and feeling her body respond as though he were actually doing it to her. She found herself nodding and felt him smirk against her throat where he kissed her.

"And who it is making you feel that good?" he murmured into her ear, stirring up goose pimples on her sensitive skin, "Say my name, love."

"Draco," Hermione groaned, lost in the scenario and in the feel of his body thrusting against hers while he kissed her neck like that.

"That's right, love," Draco Malfoy whispered approvingly as he lifted his head and captured her lips. Hermione melted into him, locking her arms around his neck and snogging him until all she could remember was his name and how flipping fantastic it felt to have his tongue tangled up with hers. Hermione felt a sick sense of titillation as she tasted herself on his lips.

When he slowly pulled back to smirk down at her wickedly, Hermione smiled right back at him.

"So…" he said a little breathlessly, "My place or yours?"


End file.
